Daughters of Anarchy
by coraelliem92
Summary: As Miss Texas, Cassia Belle Andrews once dreamed of crowns and sashes. Now, she wants nothing more than to live in the chaos of Outlaw life with the Sons of Anarchy. How can she balance who she once was with who she wants to be? And how can she avoid ruining everything when she falls in love with Jackson Teller?
1. Chapter 1

_**Daughters of Anarchy**_

Jackson Teller stared at me with a look of bemused interest as I tried to maintain my composure. I saw him in my periphery, off to the right. But I faced Clay Morrow in the sanctuary, the expansive reaper adorned table separating us.

"Why are you here?" The latter man asked gruffly, his elbows on the table, his hands clenched in fists.  
"I want in. I want to be a prospect." I said clearly for the second time. This admission was met with silence, much unlike the uproar of laughter that the statement had originally garnered. I was truly thankful for the melanin that hid the blush that was creeping up my neck.  
"She comes highly recommended by Avery down in the Dallas charter." Jax replied, looking now to his President, handing over a few sheets of paper, marked with my name Cassia Belle Andrews, which included my head shot. "That's how she's even standing here right now." Even Clay looked impressed at this new information. I prayed a silent prayer for Avery, thanking God that I had won over the right people.  
"So Avery likes the way you suck his dick?" Tig asked me plainly.  
"He wouldn't know how good my head is. I've never touched him. I'm not a crow eater." I spat back, choosing just the right amount of venom to show my strength but not enough to be seen as a threat. I was thankful, in that moment, that my melanin covered the blush creeping into my cheeks. I narrowed my brown eyes at Tig, trying to intimidate him.  
"Then what makes you so special, bitch?" Clay countered. "What could Avery possibly see in you?" I gathered my waist length black waves into a ponytail before I pulled my 357 magnum from its holster on my hip and aimed at the dartboard just above Jax's head. Hitting a bullseye would mean shooting an inch over Jax's skull. I emptied the barrel, each bullet hitting its mark. To his credit, Jax never flinched.

 **5 years later**

"Babe. I don't know where the damn grits are." I called to my boyfriend of 2 years from the kitchen. He poked his head out from the bathroom, a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His wet blonde hair fell witlessly around his pectoral muscles. I studied the tattoos on his bare chest for a moment, as I did whenever I could see him shirtless. Abel, his son (my almost stepson)'s name was written over his heart. Katherine, our daughter's name, was scrawled around his ribcage. Cassia, my name, was inked in giant cursive letters that descended vertically down his side.

"You're making grits?"

"Yeah, and all I can find is the fake can with the extra blade in it."

"Oh shit, I think I forgot to get them at the store."

"Like you purchased them but left them at the grocery store?"

"No, like I forgot to buy them." I heard the water running before he came out, his pale, creamy skin marked with the wounds of war. He crossed the space between us in a few quick strides, wrapping me in his arms from behind. He kissed my neck a couple times, nuzzling me, rubbing his arms over the tattoos on my forearms.

"Have I told you recently how good the Reaper looks on you?" He whispered.  
"You're not going to make me forget that you screwed me over by complimenting me, sir." I feigned sternness. He laughed, the feeling rumbling through the both of us.  
"I didn't really want grits this morning anyway…" he was interrupted by my phone ringing. "Don't answer it. I have plans for us right now…"  
"What's going on Chibbs?"I answered, ignoring Jax and motioning to him to get dressed.  
"Miss America, we've got a small problem brewing at the clubhouse."  
"Want to be more specific?"  
"There are a few of our Mexican friends here who wish to speak to you and Jacky-boy."  
"We'll get there as soon as we can."

Jax and I rode up to the garage, barely braking before hopping off of our bikes, I dropped my helmet on the pavement. I drew my gun and pushed Jax and his President's patch behind me, walking into the room with my gun out.  
"Tell your Sergeant at Arms to put the gun down, essay." Alvarez came out from behind a column, flanked by two of his men.  
"I'll drop my gun when you tell me why you decided to just break into our clubhouse, essay." I replied for Jax.  
"I've always liked her, because she has platinum balls, but Jax I'll shoot her."  
"You ain't quick enough ass hole." I replied as Jax stepped around me. Chibbs walked through the back door, his gun drawn too.  
"Let's all put the guns down," Jax offered, his hands in the air in a symbol of peace. Chibbs was faster to obey the order, lowering his gun with less hesitancy than I was. I moved slowly in front of Jax, dropping my gun to my hip and taking my finger off the trigger, holding both hands in the air. Alvarez's men did the same, slowly removing the threat and protecting their President at the same time.  
"What's going on, Alvarez?" Jax continued, sitting on the bar stool nearest him. He already looked weary, and the conversation hadn't even started yet. I took the seat on his left.  
"We have an impending mutual threat, Jackson." Alvarez didn't continue.  
"Which would be...?" Jax prompted. Alvarez snapped his fingers and one of his men produced a file from underneath his cut. Alvarez took it and slid it across the bar to Jax. Chibbs shot me a look, asking silently if I had any idea what this was about. I shook my head stiffly, watching Jax's stony face as he flipped through the contents.  
"It seems we do. Can I get you a drink, Marcus?" Came Jax's verdict, swift and clean. He passed the file first to Chibbs and then to me as Juice got us all a round of cognac. I flipped back the stiff paper of the folder and withheld the sharp intake of breath that almost escaped my lips. Staring me in the face was a glossy ATF photo of Clay Morrow, alive and well, organizing a small group of leather clad men around a large case of what could only be cocaine.


	2. Chapter 2 (Thanks guys!)

**(All familiar Sons of Anarchy characters and storylines are courtesy of Kurt Sutter, all the unfamiliar stuff is courtesy of my imagination and insomnia)**

 **5 years earlier**

"I want her." Jax said immediately following my beautiful gun performance.

"We all want to fuck her." Clay answered dismissively, looking at his number 2 with the utmost contempt. It was the way Julia Baker looked at me when she hugged me after I won Miss Texas. It was the way an enemy looks at their next target. But Jax didn't seem concerned. He just stared me in the eye, looking at me as though he was searching for something.

"Yeah, I want her lips wrapped around my dick for sure, but she's a rare find." Jax clarified.

"You're impressed by her little stunt?"

"She's got bigger balls than any of the Prospect's we've ever had. She aimed the gun right at me and blew a full cartridge into a target a foot above my head. That's something special. We haven't had a gunman…gun woman?…like that in years. Since Happy went Nomad."

"That right there is my point. Gun woman? What the fuck is this?" Clay cried, gesturing towards me.

"Give her to me. I want her." Jax repeated, still looking at me in that curious way.

"Come on, Clay, let Jax get his dick wet. If she's still around in 2 years, then we'll seriously consider patching her in." Bobby asserted, playing the peacemaker. "I'd bet good money that she's either his Old Lady or a used up crow eater by then. No harm no foul."

"I'm sorry? Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to accept her as a Prospect even though she is the exact opposite of the rest of us? Does anyone remember our rules?" Clay yelled.

"Some rules are meant to be broken, Clay." Chibbs spoke up. "I'll take her too. Me and Jax will raise her up right. See if she's got the stones to be a Son."

"Daughter. She'd be a Daughter of Anarchy. And she looks like she'd cause some Anarchy." Jax interrupted. He got up and crossed the room to me, unearthing a blank Prospect's cut as he went. He draped it over my shoulders and said, "Don't disrespect the cut. You're officially a Prospect, Prospect." He growled, smacking me on the ass. "Be my shadow. Let's go to work." He called to me as he exited the clubhouse with a smile, ignoring Clay's sputtering.

 **Present Day**

"He's not supposed to be active." I hissed once Alvarez and his men and left the clubhouse. Jax downed the last of his cognac and poured himself another one.

"Drink, Cass, it helps with the processing." He sneered. I rolled my eyes, but took my previously untouched drink back all at once, grimacing as the alcohol burned my throat.

"Jax, what are we going ta do?" Chibbs asked, his accent was thicker than usual.

"Cassia's going to kill him." He responded. His tone was casual, but the look in his eyes was meaningful. Jax stuck his tongue down my throat, snaking his hand around to the back of my neck and holding me steady to his lips. I could feel how out of control he was in the kiss alone. He further emphasized this when he threw his glass against the opposite wall when he was done, nearly hitting the now arriving Bobby in the head.

"What..?" Bobby started, but Jax turned his glare in Bobby's direction.

"Fill him in." Jax ordered Chibbs before turning to me. "Make a plan, run it by me, and get that shit done."

I nodded once, saluting him. "Aye, aye, captain."

"You fucking MISSED?" Jax cried at Church three nights later. I was dressed in all black, letting Chibbs tend to the gunshot wound I'd sustained to my upper left thigh.

"His sergeant at arms or whatever the fuck caught me and shot at me. I couldn't get a clean shot off." I explained, sucking a breath between my teeth as Chibbs doused the area in alcohol.

"Did they _see_ you?" Bobby cried.

"No, it was too dark to make out my face." I answered as Chibbs finished his gauze wrapping. I slumped into a chair. In my periphery, I saw Tig blast open the chapel door.

"Where the fuck is she?" He yelled before whipping around. Our eyes found each other seconds before he crossed the room in two strides. Before I could say anything, he punched me square in the nose so hard that I went tumbling backward out of the chair and onto the floor. Before blacking out, I saw Jax run at Tig with all his force, tackling the older man to the ground. There were more sounds of fists colliding before everything was black.

I came to in the bed Jax and I shared with my daughter curled into me. I could hear the soft murmurings of Jax and Abel reading a bed time story in the next room. I kissed Katherine before trying to stand. Even the smallest movement sent my head spinning; I hadn't made it very far when Jax found me.

"Baby, come on, sit down." He cooed softly, immediately rushing to my side.

"I have to pee." I replied, trying to brush past him. It was then that I noticed the weight of a splint on my nose. "Where'd you find a doctor?"

"Friend of the club came to the house. You're going to be fine."

"That's good, because I want to be healthy when I shoot Tig's nutsack off." I quipped.

"That's not the best idea." Jax responded, carrying all 5 feet 11 inches of my frame to the bathroom. He deposited me onto the toilet seat and helped me pull up my giant SAMCRO shirt to I could pee. Then he continued to stand there.

"Are you really going to watch me pee, Jax?"

"You got shot in the leg and had Tig break your nose. You need help." He countered. I sighed angrily, continuing my business as he stood watch over me.

"Why can't I shoot Tig in the balls?" I whined when I was done and at the sink to wash my hands.

"I already took care of Tig. He's paying your medical bills, so that's his way of apologizing for his slight overreaction."

"SLIGHT overreaction?! Jax, the mother fucker fucking punched me in my fucking face! I'm going to have to get a nose job to fix it!" I cried, uncharacteristically vain.

"I mean," Jax began, shuffling his feet, "You did miss."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me. I missed under the best possible of circumstances. Clay still doesn't know that SAMCRO is after him, he's not dealing that poison in Charming, and I didn't die!"

"But you still missed…" Jax replied. I gave him the glare I usually only used on my victims, trying to emphasize how truly pissed off I was at him.

"How many times have other members of this club fucked up, Prez? How many missed shots has Tig taken? Or Opie? Or Juice? None of them have had their noses broken by their so called brother. Just me, the token black female of the group." I snapped at him. "Tig still doesn't respect me. And that's a problem for me."

"Christ, Cassia, no one thinks of you like that. He respects you. He knows how important you are to the club. The bottom line is that you fucking missed. You had the opportunity to take out our biggest threat and you didn't. YOU didn't do your job for the club today!" Jax screamed so loud that Abel poked his head in the bathroom to see what had happened. I quickly smiled at our little boy and limped over to him. "Hey darling, let's get you to bed, okay?" I said to my son, scooping him up in my arms. I shot Jax another glare before limping heavily back to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: Thank you so much for all of your awesome reviews and for following/favoriting the story! It's my first time every publishing a FanFic so I'm overjoyed that y'all like it so much! As always, Kurt Sutter owns the familiar and I'm responsible for the unfamiliar.**_

 **4.5 Years Ago**

"Who's there?" I said clearly to my front door. My 357 was at the ready. Six months as a SAMCRO prospect had already fried my nerves and all I'd done was follow Jax and Chibbs around like a lost puppy and be ignored by basically everyone else.

"It's Jax. Open the door." I looked through the peephole to confirm before undoing the chains and bolts. He came through the threshold and took in the sight of me. My waist length black hair was piled into a messy bun on the top of my head, my hot pink bra was peeking from underneath my wife beater, and my short shorts were barely covering my ass. I was barefoot, and a bottle of Buffalo Trace was opened and half drunk on the nightstand next to my bed. My studio apartment, and I, weren't glamorous, but we did the job.  
"I need to talk to you." Jax said after I had locked the door again. I watched him look me over, his eyes taking in every inch of my tall frame. I tabled my gun, and took a hearty sip of the whiskey.

"This can't be good." I guessed, smirking.

"It's fine."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stop drinking; I need some undercover protection tonight. I'm heading up to Indian Hills and you need to cover my back."

"Great. Let me put some jeans on." I made to put my cut on too, but he stopped me.

"No cut, no jeans. You need to look like a crow eater. Pack a bag."

"Just to be clear, you guys are actually letting me prospect, but your first REAL assignment for me is to pose as a crow eater?" I said in disbelief.

"You've looked in a mirror; you have like size DD breasts, gorgeous eyes, and thick thighs, you're just the kind of chick that we'd keep around to service our every need. The longer we can keep you as our secret weapon, the better," Jax replied, looking exhausted. His hair was overlong, the stringy blonde locks falling somewhere around his clavicle. His blue eyes looked almost dead, almost unseeing, like someone had taken all the light from him and he was just trying to hold on.

"I'll grab a pair of platform heels." I acquiesced, capping the bottle and opening the closet. The first thing that popped out of the overstuffed closet was my pageant dress: a floor length gown of gold sequins and silk that hugged each curve of my body and only showed a tasteful amount of cleavage and leg. I'd won Miss Texas in that dress, but that was years ago now. I'd hoped Jax hadn't seen it, but I closed the doors too late.

"What the hell is that, Cassia?" He was smirking at me. I blushed again, once more happy that my blackness afforded me that one protection.

"I used to be a pageant queen." I said simply.

"A what?"

"I was Miss Texas a couple years back. I placed first runner up at the Miss America pageant a year and a half ago."

"Oh my God, you're fucking serious." He answered, laughing at me. I rolled my eyes and returned to my drink, sitting at the table and taking another sip. He stopped laughing and sat across from me.

"You were once Miss Texas and were almost Miss America and now you're a Prospect in the Sons of Anarchy Redwood Original chapter." He reached across the table and took the glass of whiskey I had placed in front of me. He sipped it slowly, watching me with the same bemused expression he had worn that first morning I'd walked into the club house. But the look was mixed with something darker. His eyes were alive in another way I couldn't quite place. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

"My dad taught me when I was 10. I was skeet shooting by 11, and hunting at 12. My mom threw me in pageants around that time to balance me out or something." I slipped my shoes on quickly and tried to pull my shorts down.

"There's more to you than the club thinks." He stated. I just stared at him.

"As much fun as it is to watch you psychoanalyze me, I thought you needed protection on the way to Indian Hills."

"You ready? Let's go."

Half an hour later, I was stuck cheek to back to Jax as we rode down the highway. I had my arms wrapped around him, our bags bouncing against my back, and was wondering how I could've forgotten a jacket at home. Jax pulled into a gas station lot and hooked his bike up to the pump. I took off my helmet and shook out my hair to get it falling down to its full length. Jax wrapped an arm around my waist and brought me closer. I forgot I was supposed to be a crow eater for a second and was taken aback until a stern look from Jax reminded me of who and where I was. I smiled sweetly and popped my gum.

"Baby, you hungry?" He asked, loud enough for most of the gas station to hear. I giggled like he'd said something sexy.

"Only for you." I cooed back. He barely kept his face straight, leading me to the convenience store. We were nearing the edge of Son territory, so we had less to fear, but my senses were on high alert. I looked around as discretely as possible, assessing the threat level.

"I'll get you a Red Bull, babe." Jax called from across the store. I nodded and smiled, heading toward the candy aisle. I've seen Jax eat candy on two occasions and on both times it was a giant Snickers bar, thinking this was something a veteran crow eater would know, I grabbed a handful of them and joined Jax at the cashier's counter. He saw them as I placed them on the counter and smiled at me. He was a good actor, but I thought this smile was genuine. As Jax paid, I leaned with my back against the counter to people watch. The convenience store was nearly empty; just us and another couple. Outside, though, there were a couple guys without cuts riding up to the station.

"Anything worry you?" Jax asked as we headed back to the bike. I saw a group of guys staring at us intently, so I stepped in front of Jax. Without warning, I pulled him close to me and kissed him. The kiss started slow, awkward, without passion until Jax pushed himself into me. He was flush against me, his pelvis pushing into mine. It was like he'd unlocked a deep part of his brain that had been left dormant for years. I could feel the hairs standing up on my neck, not from the sudden passion of the kiss-I could feel that somewhere else-but from the dudes that had just pulled up. I broke away, still maintaining as much contact as possible.

"Do you trust me, Jax?" I asked breathlessly. I could feel his nod on my shoulder, so I reached into his holster and put the gun between him and me.

"I guess the answer is yes." He whispered back, taking the gun from me. I saw a flash of silver from one of the unidentifiable men and immediately pushed Jax to the ground. I took my own gun from its garter holster under my skirt and fired before the now clearly Mexican man could pull the trigger. Jax grabbed our bags and flung his leg over the side of his motorcycle in one swift motion. I fired again at another man; this one's expansive tattoo was distinctly Mayan. He fired too, only grazing my uncovered shoulder since Jax had at some point gotten a strong hold of my bicep and pulled me out of the Mayan's line of fire. With strength I didn't know he had, Jax easily pulled me onto the bike so I was riding side saddle and peeled out of the gas station before anyone else could shoot at us.

We rode faster than I ever had before for at least 2 hours, making significant progress into Nevada before Jax stopped on the side of a back road that didn't have any street lights. He was quiet, whispering "Hold this" as he shoved his cell phone in my hand.

"When I say so turn the flashlight on and shine it on your shoulder." He instructed, unzipping a bag and removing alcohol and bandages.

"Not necessary. I'm really fine." I stuttered, too cold in the summer heat. Jax ignored my protestation as he prepared the tools.

"Okay, now. Hold it there for 5 seconds then turn it off." He continued. I turned on the flashlight and counted to 5 slowly before shutting the phone off completely. Jax pressed a hand to my mouth as he poured pure rubbing alcohol over the wound. I would have screamed if Jax didn't have his hand there. He poured the liquid and it burned everything inside me as it mixed with my blood. Finally he stopped and applied hard pressure as he wrapped my shoulder with gauze and an ace bandage. I didn't know I was crying until he gently wiped away my tears with clean hands. "Don't let the guys know I let you wear this." He said, gingerly stuffing each arm into the holes of his cut. We remounted the bike and sped off into the night.

We reached Indian Hills early that morning. The sun was coming up over the horizon and sleepy housewives were shuffling out to get the paper for their husbands, clad only in a robe and slippers. My mom had done the same thing, for my dad, hours earlier. I looked at those women rushing by and said a silent goodbye to the life I could have lived, in a fancier house with more makeup and problems. But I knew somewhere deep down in a part of my body that hadn't been burned away by the disinfecting alcohol that stuck to the back of Jackson Teller, the reaper proudly covering my weakness, was where I was supposed to be.

 **Present Day**

I took a long drag on my cigarette, slowly rocking in the rocking chair I insisted we buy when I moved in, thinking about Clay Morrow more than I ever should have. The weight of Jax's words and my failure rested heavily in the pit of my stomach. I tried everything to escape the anger boiling there. On this particular afternoon, my tactic was music. My headphones were in my ears, I was listening to Michael Jackson. It was Dirty Diana, the song to which most of my pageant routines were choreographed. That was a lifetime ago; the Reaper across my forearm told me that. The cars passed, their passengers wearily eyeing the 4 Harley's in my driveway, all adorned with Reapers and SOA decals. Jax was inside with Opie, Chibbs, and Bobby Elvis. I was invited to the meeting, but after getting my nose splint off a week ago, I didn't much feel like taking any chances that I'd say something to make anyone punch me again. But, I'd asked for the life.

We hadn't spoken really since my failed assassination attempt and subsequent punch in the face a month ago. We let the incident fade into the background as the bruises faded from my chocolate skin. We couldn't take another a shot at Clay without blowing our cover, so we were trying to lay low. My gun was in my lap, on it rested my phone. The guys were in the kitchen, talking, but even they heard my ringtone.

"Oh shit." I said, looking at the Caller ID. Jax poked his head out of the window.

"Everything okay, baby?"

"Hello?" I answered, using my pageant voice and ignoring my boyfriend.

"Cassia Belle!" The girl on the other line cried. I winced touching my long headed shoulder wound.

"Jenny! How are you?" I answered trying to match her enthusiasm.

"I'm in California!" My sister cried again. I stood up abruptly, deftly catching the gun before it hit the porch. Behind me, the guys had stopped talking and were likely standing too.

"You're in Cali?!" I repeated.

"In Charming!" She said again, every word accentuated by an exclamation point.

"Oh my god…."

"What's your address?" Jennifer pressed.

"15 Haden Street…" I said, now feeling numb.

"Be there in a sec!" She said before hanging up. I stayed rooted to the porch for a moment trying to will life back into my fingers and toes.

"Cass? What is it?" Jax asked again. He startled me, so I whipped around with the gun pointed directly at his head. My finger was on the trigger and I didn't even know it. "Jesus Christ, Cassia!" He yelled. The gravity of what I'd done, pointed a gun and threatened my President hit me in the stomach.

"I'm sorry Jax, I'm so fucking sorry, that's not…I didn't mean to…it's my fucking sister…Oh my God you're going to kill me now." I sunk to the porch floor, the anxiety and horror settling into me. Jax hopped through the window, while the guys used the front door. Jax was holding me in seconds.

"No one is going to kill you. You weren't thinking, it's okay. You don't have to prove your loyalty to me, baby. What about your sister?" He asked.

"She's here." Bobby told him, pointing down the street to a red Cadillac convertible that had just turned onto our street.

"She doesn't know, does she Cass?" Jax whispered as the car pulled into the driveway. I shook my head. As discretely as possible, he took the gun from me, placing it through the window on a counter. My 22 year old sister got out of her car wearing a pair of high heeled thigh high boots with a floral a-line dress. She had her sunglasses, Gucci probably, perched on top of her head and a matching purse on her arm. She had always been prettier than me. Her black hair caught the light perfectly, and when she swung her hair, she revealed her diamond stud earrings. She'd been Miss Texas after me, but she still acted like she had invented the pageant and been its inaugural winner. Bobby, Chibbs, and Opie were too busy staring at her ample ass to respond to her greeting.

"Cassia Belle, it's been too long!" Jenny exclaimed, ignoring everyone and walking over to me. She engulfed me in a hug; she even smelled expensive.

"Hey Jennifer, how're you? What brings you to Charming?" I asked, but she just waved her hand in the air, dismissing the questions.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me?" She asked sweetly, gesturing to the guys. Her southern drawl was stronger than I had remembered. We had the same light brown eyes, our fathers, I noticed in that moment as she checked out the group of Outlaws that had become my family.

"Uhm, Opie, Bobby, Chibbs, this is my sister Jennifer. Jennifer, the tall one is Opie, the fat one's Bobby, and the Scottish one is Chibbs." I smirked. She shook their hands. I felt better teasing the guys as I usually did. Jax, sensing that I needed the support, drew me to him again, his hand resting in the space between my lower back and my ass. I'd had his handprint tattooed there, further marking myself as SAMCRO and as Jax's property.

"Nice to meet y'all gentleman. And who's this cutie with his hand close to your ass?" She said, coming closer to us, flipping her hair. She was gearing up to flirt with Jax, of course.

"Jackson Teller, this is my sister Jennifer Anne. Jenny, this is my boyfriend Jax." She offered him her hand, but he ignored it.

"Nice to meet you." He said curtly. "Where are you staying?" He asked, sizing her up. Jenny was doing the same thing, taking in every inch of him: from the knife on his hip to his white tennis shoes, to the cut on his back. Then she looked at me properly. Her eyes roamed over my own cut, my new ink, and the steeliness that had become a permanent part of my eyes, the only thing that marked mine as different.

"You can stay with us, Jenny." I reassured her before she had a chance to answer. "How about we all go inside? I can make us some lunch. Boys, are you staying?"

"What're you making?" Bobby asked, already following Jenny, his eyes locked on her behind.

"Whatever I can find." I scolded, smacking him out of his reverie.

"We're in." Chibbs said, winking at me before hugging me and sitting back down at the table.

"Your family doesn't know you're SAMCRO?" Jax guessed.

"Are you asking if my strict, conservative Texas bred parents and sister know that I have joined an Outlaw Motorcycle Club? No, Jax. It didn't come up in conversation, especially since I haven't spoken to any of them in over 6 years." I snapped back, looking worriedly at the kitchen, where Jenny was holding court with one hand on Opie's shoulder. "Jesus Christ, Lyla is going to kill me."

"Yeah, she might. But just put her in her place." Jax reasoned, laughing.

"I'm not pulling club hierarchy on Opie's girlfriend." I replied, punching him gently in the ribs. "Come inside and help me feed the animals." I suddenly felt ten times better with Jax by my side again.


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: I don't own the familiar, Kurt Sutter does, I won the unfamiliar.**_

 **4.5 Years Ago**

Jax took the cut off me quickly, before a man called Jury could see it. He was so swift with his movements that my wife beater slipped and more of my bra was showing, I felt as if I should've been embarrassed, but the pain was the only thing I could focus on. As Jury approached, Jax pulled me in closer, kissing my cheek and resting his hand not quite on my lower back and not quite on my ass.

"You're gonna be fine, I promise." He whispered as he kissed me again.

"Jax! It's great to see you, man!" Jury greeted Jax warmly. After embracing, he turned to his club, the Devil's Tribe, and proclaimed: "You're in the presence of MC royalty!" The Tribe made varying noises of approval and greeting. Jury opened his mouth again, and despite Jax's firm hold keeping me up, I swayed next to him.

"Jury, brother, we'll have time for all that in a moment. This is Cassia, she's with me, but she got into a little accident. I need to get her inside." Jax interrupted before Jury could start up again. Jury looked at me as if he was just noticing my presence. I tried to give a small smile in return, but I'm not sure how well I managed. Suddenly, though, Jax and I were following Jury into the Devil's Tribe clubhouse.

The Tribe's clubhouse was not unlike the Son's in that there was a bar, a pool table, and framed pictures on the walls. I was led to a back bedroom, past the glares of more than a few of the club's female fans. Jury must have seen me looking back at them.

"Don't pay them any mind, Cassia. They're just our Sweet Butts. They'll get used to you in no time." I nodded in response. "How long are you in town, Jackson?" Jury continued as Jax led me to the bed. I laid back on it, praying for sweet relief.

"Just a day or two, Jury. We've got some business to discuss."

"Did Clay send you?" Jury questioned, closing and locking the bedroom door as Jax propped me up on a few pillows.

"He doesn't know I'm here. But between the two of us, I'm not necessarily on board with what Clay's thinking. I don't like the idea of a patch over." Jax said calmly, undoing the bandage on my shoulder. As Jury ran a hand over his face, I shot Jax a look in an attempt to display my discomfort with being here for this conversation.

"Is your crow eater…?" Jury began.

"She's good." Jax answered, grabbing more of the supplies from the first aid kit.

"I don't want a patch over either. Some of my guys here, Jax, they're not made for the Outlaw life."

"Few are." He commented, working slowly on my shoulder. "I need to bring out the alcohol again, okay darlin?" He said to me. I nodded again, not trusting myself to speak. Jax poured some of the liquid onto a gauze pad and then stuck the pad to the fairly shallow wound. I let out a small scream initially but was able to bite the rest back.

"Your dad wouldn't have wanted the club in gun running. I hear talks about cocaine coming from Charming, too, Jackson. What the fuck is that about?"

"You know Clay. He likes power."

"What about you, Jax, do you like power?"

"I'd like to stay whole. We can't do that if we keep running full speed at ATF. Someone's going to get hurt."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I need a year or two, but I'm going to take his gavel."

"Christ, Jax, a lot can happen in a year or two!" Jury cried. I was crying, at this point, silently due to my lack of pain killers and because this was definitely not a conversation I should have overheard. But I kept looking stonily past Jax. After a few beats of silence, Jury spoke again.

"How can I help?"

"You accept the patch over."

"But you just said…"

"It's the first of many bad moves Clay is going to make. You just have to be the first domino to fall." Jax answered, leaning in to kiss me. "Get some rest, darlin, I'll get you when it's time to go." I smiled, and with that Jax and Jury left me alone in that room to stew over my injury and my confusion.

 **Present Day**

"So what's with the leather and the tattoos and the bikers?" Jenny asked, sipping her beer on the couch while Jax tended to Abel and Katherine.

"What do you mean?" I deflected, taking a big gulp from my own bottle of Red Stripe.

"Your boyfriend looks like he's beaten a million women." She said candidly, but joking. I shot up, nearly spilling my Jamaican beer. She looked taken aback.

"He hasn't beaten a single woman. And I'm gonna need you to speak about and to him with respect, since you are staying in our house." I sneered, using my Sergeant at Arms voice. It was scary, doing that to my sister, but it was my job to make sure my President was protected. And I take my job very seriously.

"Okay, okay. But they all look like they're into some really bad stuff, Cassia Belle."

"They're my family now."

"I can see that. I didn't even know I had a niece and nephew." She said, bitter. I sighed.

"I should've told you."

"Who takes care of them?"

"Jax's mom, Gemma and our nanny, Nita. I'm sure you'll meet them both." I answered, sitting back down. Jax reappeared, in good spirits.

"They're asleep! Praise God. I heard you talking about Gemma. What'd she do this time?" He gave Jenny a big smile before plopping onto the couch next to me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissing the gunshot wound there.

"Nothing, babe. She's just the one who takes care of Abel and Katie." I caught him up to speed on the current conversation.

"I was also asking about the bikes, the leather, and the tattoos. I mean, she's not exactly cut out for it; you have to have sensed that. Whatever it is this is, I mean." She eyed him, not making any sign of backing down. But that was the Williams blood that ran through our veins. Jax took a deep breath to settle the anger that had boiled directly to his surface.

"Your sister is perfectly capable of making her own decisions. And she's good at it. Maybe you don't know Cassia as well as you think you do." He countered.

"That's obvious; especially since I didn't know she had been pregnant and given birth. My niece is beautiful, by the way."

"Is your mom going to be here soon?" I asked him, trying to divert the conversation from SAMCRO.

"Yeah, she should be here any minute. We can let her bond with your sister while we go to church."

"You're going to church again, Cassia Belle?" Jenny was shocked.

"Sort of," I smirked, getting up when the doorbell rang. "Gemma, thanks for coming, my sister is in the living room. She'd like to help you with whatever you need."

"Hi, Gemma, I'm Jenny." She introduced herself, getting up and offering the matriarch her hand. She had on her pageant smile, which Gemma had seen right through. Reluctantly, at Jax's urging, Gemma shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart." She said tonelessly. "Y'all should get back to the Clubhouse. I hear something serious has gone down."

"When is something serious NOT going down?" Jax reassured his mother. "Babe, you riding bitch or are you taking the Suzuki?"

"I NEVER ride bitch in my cut. Imagine what everyone would think?" I grinned.

"Touché. But you stick close to me."

"Always, Pres." I promised. I kissed Jenny on her forehead and Gemma on her hands. "I'll see you beautiful souls later?"

"Be safe, honey." Gemma told me.

"See ya later!" Jenny called after me.


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: Sorry for the delay everybody; I had a few family problems I had to process. But we're back in action! I don't own the familiar, Kurt Sutter does, I won the unfamiliar.**_

 **4.2 Years Ago**

"Hey, babe, it's time to go." Jax whispered, waking me from a deep sleep. I looked up at him, squinting to see him without light. Acting on an instinct I didn't know I had, I reached up for his face, curling my hand around his cheek when I found it. He leaned into my touch, letting himself fall onto the bed with me.

"If you need sleep, we can stay for a little bit." I whispered back to him. Feeling him so close to me again reignited the passion that had sparked between us at the gas station. He scooted closer to me, then, gently kissing the gauze that kept my wound from getting infected. "What are you doing?" I asked, still keeping my voice down.

"Shhhh." He answered, leaving trails of kisses from my shoulder across my clavicle and then across the other shoulder. The kisses were enough to leave me moaning and wanting for more.

"Oh my God, Jax." I breathed as he kissed my neck and then my cheeks. I could smell the alcohol then. As he made to kiss my lips, I rolled from underneath him. "We can't do this. I'm not doing this when you're drunk. I'll get us home." I said quickly, standing and turning on the lights. In the light, Jax wasn't nearly as drunk as I'd thought, but I made a choice and vowed to stick with it.

"I'll follow your lead." Jax replied, acting nonchalantly as he gestured to the door. I sighed, grabbing our bags and walking out into the Devil's Tribe clubhouse.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Clay." I told the President of SAMCRO. I was standing before the entire Club, trying to plead my case mere hours after returning to Charming. I'd been called before the club after Tig saw me pressed against Jax's back, riding bitch on his Dyna earlier that morning. Jax had driven us halfway from Indian Hills, wearing blue jeans and his cut. I'd changed into a low cut, tight sweater and entirely too short shorts along with my sky high pumps. I could see how it looked like something more.

"So you're telling me that Tig, my right hand man, is lying to me? You're not fucking Jax?"

"I think Tig believes what he saw, but he's wrong. I want this patch more than anything. I'm definitely NOT having sex with Jax." I asserted again. Tig snorted and Jax put his head on the table. It was around this time, when Jax wouldn't catch my eye, that I realized two things. The first is that no one knew that I was gone for those couple of days. Furthermore, no one knew that I'd been gone with Jax. Our jaunt to Indian Hills wasn't a club thing; it was a Jax thing. The club hadn't been testing my loyalty, Jax had.

"Oh…my God." He cried, his voice muffled by the solid wood table. "We have BOTH told all of you shit heads that we are NOT fucking each other. I think if we WERE fucking each other, one or both of us would know!" He screamed.

"I saw you leave her house at like 7 am this morning!" Tig countered.

"He was helping me with my knife skills. They're not sharp enough." I explained quickly.

"Punny," Juice laughed, giving me a high five.

"How the hell did we ever patch you in?" Clay asked, glaring at Juice. He stopped laughing and resumed his angry mask. "Why didn't you ask Tig to help you with your knife skills? He's better than Jax."

"Thanks for that," Jax's muffled voice said.

"Because, 1) if I had asked Tig, he would have DEFINITELY tried to get in my pants. And 2) Last I checked, all of you except for Jax and Chibbs still fucking hate me and want me to fail. I figured that I had a better chance of getting solid advice with one of the few people who actually wants to patch me over. I was going to prove to the rest of you that I was ready when the opportunity came up." I sighed. "I don't doubt that it looked weird, but it wasn't. He came over last night, late, like we had planned. He and I practiced a few moves with the knives, but he got tired and he crashed on my bed while I kept look out. I did my job." I sighed again, not wanting to show how desperate I was for them to believe me.

"That doesn't explain where either of you have been in the last 36 hours…" Tig started again but Clay interrupted him.

"Okay, okay. Look, I don't care anymore! New ground rules. Pretend the Prospect is a dude. Pretend she has a dick. No one can fuck her. If we find out that you've been whoring around with the Club then we'll strip you of your Prospect cut and then you'll be left to fend for yourself. Understand me?" Clay decreed. Everyone nodded. "Great. That's it then. Prospect, for now, you're gonna go on all the protection runs. You're no longer Jax's and Chibb's. We're opening you up to the Club. From this point forward you have a maximum 1 year Prospect period. We're taking you seriously now."

"I'm ready." I promised him.

"We'll see about that." Clay promised.

"Do you see that ridiculous looking white boy with the ridiculous looking haircut?" Tig asked me about two weeks later, pointing to one of Darby's crew members.

"Yeah."

"We need him distracted. Take off your cut and flirt with him." He instructed.

"Tig, he's a racist ass hole with some stupid idea of White America taking over. Using the black chick as bait is probably not going to work." I told him.

"She has a point." Bobby reasoned, smacking Tig on the shoulder.

"He'd probably hate seeing you two together, though, right?" Tig suggested.

"You want me and Bobby to flaunt our 'interracial relationship' in this ass hole's face?"

"Look, you're supposed to be smart. You figure it out then." He hissed.

"With pleasure." I headed into the park we were scoping out and headed straight towards the racist ass hole that had most recently sold out SAMCRO. "Yo, bitch with the swastika. Get the hell out of this park. You're not wanted here."

"Watch who you're talking to bitch." He growled, looking around for someone to help him. But the other park patrons left the area, taking their kids and going. Seeing that he wasn't easily provoked, I took matters into my own hands. I pushed him from behind with all the force I could muster. He reacted the way I hoped he would, backhanding me with everything he had. I crashed to the ground, but I had been expecting that. The guy was 6 foot 8 and looked like he probably could take out every single fighter in the WWE. I spat out the blood onto the dirt and rolled away from his kicks.

"Can't even beat a girl down!" I laughed, getting up. He raised to strike me again, but I was faster than he was and smarter. Within minutes, I had jumped onto his back and put him in a wicked chokehold, my knife to his throat. "Now stop struggling, ass hole. And watch your ass hole friends die." I hissed. Tig and Bobby were handling another large racist white man when we all remembered it was broad daylight.

"We've gotta go!" Bobby called to me. "Keep him from talking." He instructed me. It was instinctual for me, slitting his throat open. I just did it, knowing it was for the good of the club. It was just like when I laced Carlie Davis' morning tea with laxatives the day of the Miss Texas pageant. I couldn't have Miss Fort Worth beating me. And that's how we do things in Houston. But watching Carlie realize that she was going to shit herself during the interview portion wasn't nearly as satisfying as feeling this guy's warm blood run through my fingers. I had enough adrenaline to run to Houston and back.

"Come on Prospect! We have to go!" Tig cried.

"You did good, Miss Texas, come on. We've left our message." Bobby urged me quietly, wrenching my hands away from the dead racist, and leading me back to my motorcycle.

Jax was waiting for us when we entered the Clubhouse, he had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Upon seeing me, he immediately put out the smoke and looked at me with a criticizing eye. He hadn't spoken to me since Indian Hills, choosing instead to sulk and avoid me. So when he slammed the bottle down with almost enough force to shatter it in response to seeing the growing bruise on my cheekbone, we were all taken aback.

"Why the fuck is the Prospect covered in blood?" He asked coldly, his rage and the drink controlling his mind. He pushed me behind him, getting some blood on his cut.

"She did what she had to do, Jax." Bobby told him, his hands up in a pleading motion.

"I'm fine. Not a scratch on me." I insisted to Jax, hoping he too could feel the electricity pulsing between us where he had placed his hand. But he was far gone from the proper mindset of the club. He turned to me, with one hand he gently gripped my wrist and with the other he took my chin in his fingers. He examined me, from face to feet, not making a sound. Finally, he pushed me in front of Tig and Bobby.

"Her face is all fucked up. WHO HIT HER?!" He roared. "We DO NOT HIT WOMEN." He continued yelling. Clay, Juice, Chibbs, Opie, Kozik, Happy, and Half Sack all came bursting through the doors.

"I did what I had to do Jax, let go of me!" I whispered.

"She killed him, man. She did what we came there to do." Bobby reassured him. But Jax couldn't be swayed, he dropped his grip on me. He pushed Tig to the ground and then turned his rage to Bobby. But I stepped between them.

"I just proved my loyalty to the club. I killed that man with my bare hands. Be happy, for God's sake and stop fucking brooding."

 **Present Day**

"I wonder how long it'll take Gemma to stab my sister in the throat?" I asked Jax as we walked into the Clubhouse. A party was in full swing, welcoming Half Sack home from Stockton, where he had finished 7 months for robbery.

"I'll bet you 20 bucks that Gemma calls Nita to take care of Abel and Katherine and shows up here in the next hour." Jax laughed, wrapping me in his arms.

"You win that bet, they're already here." I sighed. Jax pulled me closer for an all encompassing kiss, the kinds that send your spine to jelly and your mind to mush. His tongue probed around my mouth, making me forget that we were A) in public and B) that my sister had just officially entered the SAMCRO life. But it couldn't transport us out of reality forever. My persistent and annoying little sister, only 2 years younger than me, tapped my shoulder.

"I need booze. Your future mother in law gave me a headache." She announced loudly. I groaned. Most of the Old Ladies were there, Gemma was behind her, and I was wearing my cut. You don't insult the Queen in front of the King and his Princess. It just didn't happen. I pushed her off me.

"You need a fucking clue, Jennifer." I spat at her. "She's the best thing to ever happen to my family, and if you don't back the fuck off immediately, our relationship will get a million times for dysfunctional. You're in MY house, bitch. Act like it." I screamed out her, everyone hearing me. Jax, behind me, was itching to have a go at her but my sister is still my sister so I pushed him away too, but gently so that the people watching knew that I wasn't asserting power. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and my sister a glare.

"You'd find booze in the bar. Just tell them you're with me." I called back to her, following my love into the Clubhouse to say hello to Juice. I passed a group of guys playing an adaptation of the Animal's House of the Rising Sun. As I walked past, the heels of my black leather boots clicking against the floor, I heard them sing:

"Go tell my baby sister/ never do what I have done/ to shun the house in Charming Town/ they call the rising sun."

"I have no idea what we're talking about, anymore." I giggled, snuggling closer to Jax. It was nearly 4 in the morning, and the party was just now winding down. Jenny was sitting on Happy's lap, I was wrapped up in Jax like a cocoon, and Lyla was in a similar state with Opie. Tig had three girls in the apartment upstairs. Bobby was hanging with us, telling old stories and jokes. Half Sack was face deep in a Crow Eater on the pool table. The rest of the guys, nearly 4 charters worth, were scattered around the clubhouse and the mechanic shop with random hookers and Crow Eaters. Gemma was at the bar with Unser, nursing a stiff drink.

"We're talking about progression, baby!" Jax slurred, a little bit of his tequila spilling onto my cut.

"I thought we were talking about Happy's shitty taste in music?" I laughed back, kissing him to taste his tequila lined lips.

"Hey! I have excellent taste in music!" Happy protested, but we all roared with laughter.

"So, why do they call you Happy?" My sister purred, rubbing his crotch with her hand, not trying to hide it. He moaned with pleasure and pulled his shirt up, showing her all of his happy face tattoos. Each one represented one man that he'd murdered. The ones with halos were the Sons of Anarchy Members that he'd killed. We had that in common. The 'Unholy Ones' patch that disgraced our cuts. But Happy wore his with pride, he was a trained assassin and a real asset to the club. He even fine tuned my own skills. It was because of him that I had my own smiley face tattoos on my lower back, three with halos. Jax told me it was a turn on, that he loved how good I was at my job. It made making me his Sergeant at Arms when he became the President that much easier.

"What's with your tattoos?" Jenny pressed, asking her favorite questions of the evening as she moved her hand from his pants to his tats. I sighed, my buzz quickly fading.

"Hey, Jenny, help me clean up? We can do some long overdue sisterly bonding." I asked her sweetly, untangling myself from Jax, who let me go grudgingly.

"Yeah, sure." She got up too, kissing Happy on the cheek and following me to the store room, where I handed her a trash bag.

"Just throw away things that look like trash." I told her.

"Contrary to popular belief, I've done this once or twice before." She smiled, teasing me. She had long ago pulled her hair into a ponytail and taken off her heeled boots. We worked silently next to each other, enjoying the background noises the guys were making. Juice had finished eating his Crow Eater and had joined them at the couches. Chibbs was sitting on one of the bar tables, swinging his legs back and forth. Jax had one hand on his beer and the other on his holster, his default when I wasn't around. Jenny caught me staring.

"Are you gonna tell me what this is?" She asked softly, no longer the pageant queen, but my sister.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Cut the bullshit, Cassia. You're clearly a part of them. And you're the only girl I've seen with their leather on. And the only one that they treat with any type of respect. You've got a daughter, a shitload of tattoos, a new guy who is a sexy mix of protective and dangerous, and a new attitude. You're not the same girl."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm not." I sighed, throwing more paper plates and beer bottles into the bag.

"Does that have something to do with this club?"

"It has everything to do with this club," I told her quietly, willing her to do the same. "They're my family now. Jax, Gemma, these guys. They took me in and made me a part of them even though they weren't supposed to and even though it went against everything they stood for to do so. They protected me when I was in danger and they trusted me with their secrets. They're it for me. This is it for me."

"You're happy?" She asked seriously.

"Yeah, and not the kind with the tattoos." I smiled.

"I want in then." I wasn't expecting it, so I dropped the bag and shattered the beer bottles in there. The guys looked up, still laughing hysterically. Jax's bright blue eyes found my brown ones so he quietly excused himself and joined us.

"What's the matter, darlin?" He asked, kissing my cheek.

"Nothing, nothing…" I started, but Jenny interrupted me, talking loud enough for all of SAMCRO to hear.

"I want to be in the Sons of Anarchy." She announced. I sunk onto a barstool, putting my head in my hands, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes until I saw funny colors. One of my brothers spat his beer onto another. Happy started yelling incoherent words. Jax was stony and silent in front of me, a hand still on my knee.

"My fucking sister, ladies and gentlemen." I said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"Do you know who we are little girl?" Jax asked Jenny, tapping into every ounce of power that his President's patch allowed him. Jenny stared him down, so he got louder. "ANSWER ME." He screamed, spit flying into her face. She was calm, because she's an Andrews, and she had been used to this from our father. She wiped off her face with a nearby bar towel and stepped up to him.

"You're my sister's family. I want into that family." She told him, standing her ground. Jax stepped back and gave her the same look he gave me when I asked to Prospect.

"What's with you Andrews girls? How'd y'all become the only females in the world to grow some serious balls?"

"Our father. He was a drunk and a child molester. He raped us our whole childhoods. Only stopped when we started winning crowns." Jenny answered simply.

"God damn it." I breathed just as Jax said:

"Jesus Christ." He made to hold me again.

"Don't you dare fucking touching me, Jackson." I warned. He backed up immediately.

"You didn't tell him?" Jenny asked in a disbelieving tone.

"No, dear sister, I didn't tell them. Not any of them." I was sobbing now, but it was a silent, strong cry that let me speak clearly. Jax had never seen me cry this way since our first trip to Indian Hills together. I hadn't even done it when I first held Katherine. Chibbs, who was teetering between drunk and sobriety, spoke up.

"Are ye crying, Miss Texas?" He cried, jumping down from the pool table and coming over to where Jenny had dropped her bomb.

"I'm fine."

"Is this true, Cassia?" Jax asked, I could see him breaking in front of me and it was like my father had been raping me all over again.

"Yeah. It is." I confirmed. Jenny was crying too, much like my own sobs, but she had always been stronger than me. Not as talented with the violence, but she had more of a stomach for it. Jax picked up the nearest glass bottle he could find and threw it against the wall. No one moved.

"We're riding to Houston. Immediately." He decided, stalking to the door, checking the magazine in his glock as he went.

"NO." I screamed at them, even though every single one of them were ready to hit the door and the road. They stopped, not used to me so blatantly challenging his authority.

"This is what we do, Cassia. You know that as well as I do. Someone hurt you. We get reconciliation." He said, explaining it to me like I was a five year old. I wiped my face with the towel, mixing Jax's spit with my tears.

"I'm sponsoring Jenny's Prospect bid." I said, distracting them and changing the subject.

"You're doing what?!" Jax cried.

"You're gonna need her if I get pregnant again, which is something we're planning." I reasoned.

"She's right. We were hurting when you knocked her up." Opie told Jax.

"Jesus Christ why is everything happening TONIGHT?" He cried.

"Because Hurricane Jennifer blew through." I told him.

"This isn't my fault." She spoke up.

"Shut your mouth, Prospect." I spat at her. She opened her mouth to speak again. "I said, shut the fuck up. You want to be a Prospect. This is what you do. You follow orders." I rounded on her. She was only scared of me. "And right now, your orders are to shut the fuck up." She was silenced easily. "You're not going to kill my father, Jax. That's too much blow back on you and SAMCRO. Brains before Bullets." I insisted.

"Fine. But this conversation ain't over." Jax promised me as Gemma came out of the back room with Unser.

"What's all this fighting about?" She asked, looking to all of us for an explanation.

"Club business." Bobby answered gently, urging her to go home just by the look in his eyes.

"We're taking my sister on as a Prospect." I told her.

"You're what?" She cried.

"No one has seconded you, yet." Jax spat, reminding me of my place. But Chibbs, my best friend and former sponsor, backed me immediately.

"I'll take the new girl too."

"I'll train her." Happy spoke up. Jax threw his hands in the air.

"Am I even the God damn President anymore?!" He yelled, coming right in my face. I saw the look in his eyes, the one I never wanted to see in him, or any of the guys. Pure pity. He felt sorry for me. He felt the need to protect me. My strength, as Sergeant at Arms, was dwindling in his eyes all because of my daddy issues. And then Robert Andrews had power over me all over again. He had the damn control. And 5 years of blood, sweat, and pain vanished from his eyes. All my patches now meant nothing. I was broken. I was wounded. And as far as my love life goes, I was used pussy. What Jax had thought he owned for all these years, he now found out had been test drove. I was finished.


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN: I don't own the familiar, Kurt Sutter does, I own the unfamiliar.**_

 **3.5 Years Ago**

"Okay, so first we need to do hand to hand combat. You've gotta be able to protect yourself if your weapons get knocked away." Opie began, taking off his shirt in the Teller-Morrow parking lot.

"You want me to fight you?" I asked incredulously.

"Most of the guys you're gonna go up against are gonna be ruthless, and big like me. So you have to practice fighting the worst of it." He explained. "You did well with Darby's guy, but you're gonna need more than that." He continued. I nodded, keeping all my jewelry on. I wanted to fight him as I would fight anyone if I was unprepared. My mind was foggy though. Ever since Indian Hills, Jax had been too careful around me. He wouldn't touch me, he would barely look at me. I was basically alone. He only spoke to me if he had to, if it was a necessity.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go." Opie circled me, watching my every move. I kept one eye on his eyes and the other on his feet. An ex-boyfriend once told me that boxers are constantly being betrayed by their feet. But Opie's feet weren't doing what they were supposed to do, so I was shocked when he clocked me in the face. Jax, who was smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer on the picnic table, winced when I hit the pavement directly in front of him.

"Ouch." I deadpanned, getting up.

"You're watching my feet too much. It's instinctual. You're a spiritual being, I can tell. Just follow your instincts. You relied too much on logic. Street brawling is NOT a logical thing. You can't expect anything from the other fighter." He told me.

"I'm ready."

"Good." And he punched at me again, but I dodged it, choosing instead to tackle him. We both went down and I took the opportunity his surprise awarded me to punch him in the face over and over again. Then, even more suddenly, he picked me up and slammed me onto the pavement.

I woke up to Jax staring at me. I was in my own bed, but he was still hovering over me like a fly, checking my pulse in my neck and feeling my forehead.

"I'm still alive." I said.

"I know. I can feel your pulse." He replied, sitting down at the edge of the bed, near my feet.

"Glad that's settled." I rolled over and curled into the fetal position. "Opie apparently doesn't know his own strength."

"Tell me about it." He sighed. "I told him it was a bad idea." He added.

"Yep. It sure feels like it." I responded as the lump on my head made its presence more and more hard to ignore. "I'm surprised to see you, Jax." I added, scooting against my headboard and leaning my head back so I wouldn't have to hold it up.

"Why?"

"Because you've ignored me for the last 6 months." I responded, closing my eyes.

"You have to stay awake, you might have a concussion." He said, gently nudging my foot. I opened my eyes and then narrowed them at him. "I can't feel whatever I'm feeling for you, Cass." He confessed, running his hands through his ever growing blond locks.

"I don't even know what that means."

"God, when you got shot I felt like a bullet had ripped through me too. Seeing you open like that and hurt. I just couldn't stand it. And those kisses, the way your lips just fit to mine. I know you felt it between us back in Nevada." He shook his head, like he was trying to erase the memories of us kissing. "I wanted to think of you like you were just another crow eater. I wanted to believe that you were just another bitch that I'd used up and thrown out. And I was, at first. But it stopped working, if it ever was. I kept remembering that gown in your closet and I looked up your Miss America pictures and I'm reminded of how skilled you are with a gun and your knife on a daily basis. I am constantly reminded that you're so much more than what the club thinks you are. I'm madly in love with you. I'd do anything for you. And it scares the shit out of me, Cassia."

"Understandable reaction." I continued in my dry tone, rocked by his sudden proclamation but still unable to meet him there, regardless of how true it was for me too.

"You're not made for this life. You weren't trained for it." Jax lamented.

"I held my own against Opie today, until he slammed my head into the ground."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"What the hell ARE you talking about?" I cried, throwing my hands in the air.

"You! In SAMCRO. You should drop your bid for a patch."

"I do that, I die. You and I both know that. I'm not dying in the near future. Plus, I'm an asset to the club. You need me as much as I need you. I'm fucking good at this. Who cares what I was going to do when I was 18? That's a lifetime away from right now. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me, Cassia. I don't want you in the life." He said firmly. "You're going to do what I say, Cassia. It's for the good of the club." He continued in a tone that meant that the conversation was over. I chose my next words carefully.

"Jax. Baby, I love you. I really do. But I'm not your Old Lady." And then it was out there: all of the things he'd been unable to say to me since Nevada, and all of the things I'd felt since kissing him at that gas station and they collided together, bouncing around the silence like ping pong balls. We were still as far away as we were all those months ago.

 **Present Day**

"Please, for the love of God, stop talking." I begged Jennifer at the breakfast table. She was hammering on about life in SAMCRO, Happy, Opie, being a Prospect, and loving this ten times more than being a Pageant Queen.

"Is that you talking or is that the Sergeant at Arms talking?" She giggled.

"Let's assume, from now on, that whenever I speak to you, I'm speaking as your Sergeant at Arms." I glared at her.

"Someone need your breasts more than I do, Cass." Jax said in a sing-song voice as he came into the kitchen. It was nearly 6 am, but we were all awake and ready for a day of the Outlaw livelihood. Chibbs and Opie were sitting at the kitchen table with us, eating the traditional southern breakfast I had gotten up early to make. But even so, I whipped out my left breast and gently coaxed Katherine to my nipple. Jenny was the only one who looked outraged.

"Don't worry. My best friends have seen my girlfriend's breasts probably as much as I have." Jax smirked darkly, feigning pride in this fact.

"Aye, Prospect. Miss Texas here does have an excellent rack. But it's locked up tight." Chibbs winked. He gave a respectful nod towards his President as Jenny gagged.

"Momma would be disgusted." Jenny spat out, glaring at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Everything disgusted Momma. And watch your tone, missy." I glared back, readjusting my daughter. Jax had sat down at the head of our dining room table, his spot at every table that was graced by his presence. I was at his right, Chibbs at his right, Opie next to Chibbs, and Jenny next to me. Abel was in the kitchen, trying to balance his bowl of cereal and his glass of orange juice in his too-small hands. I was overwhelmed by the family that surrounded me, old and new, and started to beam. Jax caught the smile no one else did, the guys were too busy giving Jenny hell.

"What's that for? I haven't seen that in days." He whispered, stroking Katie's hair before holding my free hand. Don't get me wrong, I could see the dysfunction. Everyone at the table was armed to the nine's, and none more than me. Jax's holster was filled, the guns clanking together if he moved too quickly. I could feel my knife digging into my hip and my right ankle was twice its weight because my old 357 was stuffed into a garter I wore with my combat boots. I was an Outlaw. I was leading my sister into this life. And it all seemed perfect. I leaned over to my hot, badass boyfriend and kissed him full on the mouth.

"I love you." I whispered back when I pulled away. He gave me the same, searching, impressed look he always did when I surprised and pleased him.

"I love you too, Cassia."

"So, the first thing you need to know about SAMCRO is how to ride a motorcycle." Jax told Jenny that night at Teller Morrow. The lot was empty and locked down, Gemma had the kids, and Jenny had forgotten to tell us that she didn't know how to ride a bike. Jax had laughed at first, and then got really angry that we had accepted a Prospect with zero basic skills. I had to convince him to teach her, since he was the best rider in the entire club. I dragged my old Spyder from storage and had it dusted off for her to use. There was no way she was going to learn how to ride on my Suzuki. Or any of Jax's precious bikes. Jax used me as a model to explain the basics of motorcycle riding.

"Watch how Cassia mounts the bike, keeping it steady. You need to have control over it when it's not moving if you ever hope to actually go anywhere. Now, kick up the kickstand. She settled down onto the bike, feet planted. Start it up, rev the throttle, one hand on the break…see?" Jax went painfully slowly as Jenny copied my movements. Whatever her shortcomings, my sister was always a brilliant mimic. Her talent was singing. She couldn't hold an original tune to save her life, but she could memorize and imitate perfect copies of the greats with only an hour of practice. She did a rendition of Whitney Houston's And I Will Always Love You that brought one audience to tears. She won her 9th grade talent show with a show stopping version of Toni Braxton's He Wasn't Man Enough after her quarterback boyfriend dumped her for a Varsity cheerleader. She used to do my dance routines back to me, better than I did, when I was practicing for Miss America. So, she copied me exactly, spurting off in the same perfect half circle that I had just done, as my mirror image. Jax was impressed.

"What's in the water over in Houston?" He laughed.

"We have a very specific set of skills." I said, imitating Liam Neeson in Taken. That made him laugh harder, and once again I was struck with how much I loved him and SAMCRO. To love one was to love the other, I realized early on. After a few more hours of practicing, the three of us sat on the picnic tables, drinking beers.

"Can you guys be my sister and her boyfriend for a second and not like King and Queen?" Jennifer asked seriously. I downed my first beer and reached for another.

"Sure. What's up?" I replied, poking Jax in the ribs to go with the flow. He nodded solemnly.

"What…what have you had to do?" She blurted out.

"Me specifically, or us?" Jax looked at her, not even a bit of malice in his eyes.

"Both. What do you guys do? What's the worst that I can expect? I need to prepare emotionally." She clarified.

"Before we answer that, Jenny, I need to know why you want in. You know that you can't just leave now. You're here forever now. With SAMCRO, in Charming, whatever you call it, you can't leave."

"I know. I wanted this. I needed something to tie me to somewhere."

"Why?" You were happy in New York."

"I was anorexic in New York. And on crack. All up the nose. Every modeling paycheck I got was spent on shoes and blow. And the funny thing is, I didn't even like the drugs that much. I hated how it made me feel, but I felt like it was what I was supposed to be doing, so eventually, I left. Ran away from everything. I was released from my contracts anyway. I had to get away from there. I spent weeks in the Midwest, fucking random men-bikers mostly-and I heard stories. I heard about you. I heard about SAMCRO. You sounded like such a badass, like a superhero. If you can be saved, why can't I?"

"You go to church to be saved." I agreed, staring at the Clubhouse. That's where my Chapel was.

"But some of the stuff I heard about you, especially getting closer to Charming, I just couldn't believe. So I have to know what I'll be expected to do."

"Right now, you're not expected to do anything. You're a Prospect." Jax said sternly, forgetting that he had promised to be the older brother type and not the President.

"Are you asking if you'll have to kill a man?" I took her hand and squeezed. "Probably. But not because we like murder. Sometimes, all the time, it's a necessary sacrifice. But I'm very good at it, so you won't need to do much of that. You'll mostly fire your gun in self defense. But make no mistake, people want you dead now. It's not personal, babe, it's just business and that's the way it goes sometimes."

"Do I have what it takes? Tell me straight." She asked, looking me and Jax right in our eyes.

"If you're anything like your sister, you're going to be fine." He promised.


	7. Chapter 7

_**AN: I don't own the familiar, Kurt Sutter does, I own the unfamiliar.**_

 **3.8 Years Ago**

"I'm sending you and the Prospect to Denver." Clay told me and Jax one night in the Clubhouse. Jax and I had continued to barely speak since he left my house over 2 months ago. He told me club business and club business only. He iced me out all other times. Opie and Chibbs had become my best friends, showing me the ropes and keeping my skills sharp.

"To do what?" Jax asked, half weary and half pissed. Even from my outside perspective, I could tell that their relationship was more strained than ever. Jax couldn't even hide his contempt for Clay some days, like now. It was in these moments I remembered the truths he had trusted me with back in Nevada. But now, Clay fixed him with a stern look.

"Smoke weed and fuck Crow Eaters, Jackson."

"Sounds like a great time," I added dryly, trying to be impassive. "I'll just keep watch over him, then?"

"What are the two of you? A comedy routine?" Clay cried, not impressed.

"It would be a legitimate way to earn. Why are we taking our act on the road?" Jax replied, equally as sarcastic as I was. Clay glared at the both of us now.

"I need you to assess SAMDEN's level of protection. I got word that some Mayans are trying to edge them out of their territory just like what happened in Indian Hills before the patch over." He explained.

"Edge them out?" Jax asked for clarification.

"They've got a killing order out for anyone wearing a Sons cut." Clay answered.

"Jesus Christ…" Jax sighed, slumping into one of the chairs around the Clubhouse table. I resisted the wild natural urge that came to mind, to squeeze his shoulders and release the tension, but I resisted, standing erect instead.

"So you're up for it? You'll need to be careful."

"We'll be fine. We'll leave tonight." Jax promised, leading me from the room. I encountered Chibbs on my way out, who stopped me. Jax kept going.

"Aye, Prospect, what's going on?" He whispered, taking me aside.

"Me and Jax are going on a little trip. I don't know if I can say more." I confessed.

"Are you two okay? I've noticed some things…" he started, but I cut him off.

"Everything's fine. I'm fine, he's fine." I smiled at Chibbs, but he'd grown to know me too well.

"I don't need to know how long you've been in love with him, and I don't want to know. But Cassia, the two of you are better together. Everyone knows that. Even Clay would look the other way if he was smart enough to realize that it's better for the Club if you're with Jax. He's not himself, you're depressed. So you need to fix it. Use this trip to make things right, or we'll all suffer for it." He told me gravely, kissing me on the cheek and walking away.

My glasses were on, instead of my contacts, and my fingers felt frozen to the throttle. These were just small signs of a long ride. Jax was riding silently next me, we were going somewhere near 100mph, and the scenery flew by like it was paper fluttering in the wind. We drove without stopping until he flagged me down. We stopped at a gas station near the Colorado border. We were riding in plain clothes, hoping to avoid recognition. I stretched my arms high in the air as the gas pumped into my Harley and bent backwards at my spine, touching my plans to the rough, gravelly pavement. My eyes were closed, but I could feel eyes on me. Everything was feeling too much like my first trip out of state with Jax. In addition to me and Jax there were only a few other people at the station. A family of 4 in a minivan to my right, a dude and his girlfriend making out near the convenience store, and a group of guys at the pump to my left. Jax had gone inside for waters and snacks. I figured the random dudes were the ones staring, so I put on a show. I opened my eyes before lifting up on my palms into a handstand. I stayed in that position for a few minutes. My tank top and slipped down to my bra, revealing my belly ring. As I carefully returned to my feet, one of the guys felt brave enough to approach me.

"Nice moves. You a gymnast?" He smiled crookedly. I decided he wasn't altogether ugly and returned the smile.

"No, a dancer. But sometimes they're the same thing." I replied, faking a giggle. He checked me out, openly staring at me from face to feet as if he was appraising me for sale.

"You don't have a gymnast's body." He remarked.

"I don't. Too tall. Too curvy." I replied, walking around him to get to my Harley. The gas station lights were too bright in the midnight hour, so I shielded my eyes from the fluorescents so I could see him better.

"I'm Ashton, by the way." He told me, still smirking crookedly.

"Brittany." I answered. I began to wonder where Jax was. His bike was still connected to the pump, like mine, but I couldn't see him in the store windows. Ashton was rambling about something, I wasn't listening, when I finally saw Jax in the window. He looked more pissed than I had ever seen him.

"It was nice meeting you, Ashton, but I've gotta go." I interrupted, walking towards the store.

"Bitch!" He called after me.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before." I called back, grinning madly and turning my head to look at him. But I wasn't watching where I was going and had run straight into Jax. "Ooph." I said, my voice muffled by his t-shirt.

"Enjoying yourself?" He sneered.

"Having about as much fun as you appear to be." I shot back, stepping away from him. He thrust a water bottle into one hand and a Snickers bar into my jacket pocket.

"Here. They're our favorite." He said dully, pushing past me and mounting his bike. I followed suit, and soon enough we were choked by silence again.

 **Present Day**

Jennifer had been a Prospect for almost three weeks, and it wasn't going well. The only thing she was good at was riding a motorcycle and shooting at non-moving targets. She talked too much, she let Jax intimidate her, Opie kicked her ass, and Juice had even scared her. I was running out of excuses for her. She'd always been excellent at everything pageant related. She was an intelligent student and always hardworking. What I could say about her is that she always kept her eyes open. So, she wasn't completely hopeless. I started working with her through the night at Teller Morrow, trying to get her to absorb the information through osmosis.

One afternoon, the day that marked the end of her fourth week, Jax found me lying in the grass near Teller Morrow.

"I've been looking all over for you." He said, obviously weary.

"I'm hiding from Happy and Jennifer." I replied dryly.

"The Niners need us to take out a threat. To keep the peace, you know."

"Translation: I need to take out a threat on behalf of the Niners because the Niners are more paranoid than Alastor Moody from Harry Potter."

"Who?" He asked.

"I keep forgetting that you're like 10 years older than me." I sighed. "Yeah, alright. Who am I killing today?"

"Hector Salazar. He's a member of that Mayan patch over that never really happened. He killed a few Niners a couple days ago. They were fighting over heroin territory."

"Awesome."

"Take the Prospect." He turned to walk away.

"You want me to take my sister with me while I kill a man?"

"No. I want you to take a SAMCRO Prospect with you for protection while you're on Club business. And don't question me about this again." His voice matched his eyes: steely and unwavering. He was daring me to question him. But I kept my mouth shut and merely nodded.

"Now, can you take off that cut and lay here with me?" I asked him, reaching up for his hand. He took it reluctantly, letting me pull him down onto the grass. He gently wrapped his arms around me, as was his way now, like he was afraid of breaking me. I rested my head against his chest so I could listen to his heartbeat. It still beat strong, beating out the only rhythm I'd ever wanted to hear. But he was holding his breath, teetering between wanting to say something and keeping it locked up.

"I don't know how to be with you anymore, Cassia." He said, finally choosing a side. Even through the relief I felt for being able to talk about this with him, my heart dropped. I could feel it hit the rock bottom of my stomach lining.

"I know. I know you don't. That's why I didn't tell you." I replied, resisting the urge to burrow into him. All I wanted was to feel him wrap his body around me as he had only a few weeks ago. "I know I made you think that I was yours and yours only, and I'm sorry that I misled you." I said quietly. He sat up quickly and straddled me.

"Absolutely not. No. That is NOT what this is about." He said vehemently looking like a man possessed.

"Then what the hell are you talking about?"

"You're the strongest person I know. You're stronger than me, stronger than my mother, stronger than this Club. And I'm sorry that you haven't always been. And that your father is a dirty bastard. I just want to kill him." He confessed.

"That makes two of us. But, I'm telling you Jax, he's bigger than anything or anyone we've ever faced as a club. You don't just assassinate Robert Andrews. It doesn't happen, and I'm not worth the end of the Sons of Anarchy."

"What about you and Jennifer combined? Are both of you worth it?"

"No. Nothing and no one is bigger than club. You told me that nearly 4 years ago in Denver when you said that we couldn't ever put our relationship before the club. Brains before bullets. Smart retaliation. We don't murder for personal gain, we murder for business. So the very moment that my father becomes a threat to the Niners and the peace we have in Charming, we can consider putting it to the table and taking him out. But we murder for business. It's the SAMCRO way, at least it is when I'm the Sergeant at Arms."

"You shouldn't have to martyr yourself for the Club, Cass, I won't let you."

"It's not martyrdom. I've come to terms with my childhood, and I left it. I took the control back in my life long before I got to Charming and long before I asked for a chance for a patch. I healed myself. Jenny will too, you just watch." I reassured him.

"When do I stop hurting for you?" His bright blue eyes bore into my soul. He had always been completely open with me, through his eyes, and his questions. Since crying in front of the club a week ago, I had been less reserved with my emotions. I guess I wasn't afraid of being a woman anymore. Clay's leadership had required me to desex myself. I was terrified that even the smallest sign of anything would get me kicked out. That my inherent femininity would ultimately be my downfall. But the moment Jax took the gavel, we all knew that I was female. I kept up the act so I wouldn't appear weak. Then, when half the club saw me give birth on the pool table, with Chibbs acting as my OBGYN and ultimately delivering Katherine, with a reluctant assist by Tig, it was impossible to ignore my womanhood. None of them could push an 8 pound baby through their penis hole, especially without pain killers. Everyone had looked at me with reverence after that. I was the only one who doubted my strength. Maybe I hadn't healed myself after all.


	8. Chapter 8

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar, I own the unfamiliar.**_

 **3.8 Years Ago**

We didn't stop again until we hit a motel in the middle of Nevada. Jax handled the business and had greased the clerk to give us permission to ride our bikes into the rooms.

"Why?" I asked Jax, even though I knew the answer. I just wanted to talk to him for once. He didn't even look at me as he answered.

"I don't want anyone fucking with our motorcycles. It could have dangerous consequences. They'd recognize my decals." He said in staccato.

"Good thinking. I can see why you're the VP." I smiled, trying my hand at flirting with him. He grunted absently in response. I rolled my eyes, pushing open the door so he could ride through it. He revved the throttle, a serious look on his face. He made it look like an art, the way he glided through the doorway. After parking his bike he took over my spot at the door. I tried to copy his grace, but I left black marks on the floor of the motel.

"Damn, I wanted to do it the way you had. I mean, you're clearly really good." I tried to smil at him.

"At riding a motorcycle?"

"Yep."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asked, frustrated. I sighed, this wasn't going well for me.

"Nothing, Jax." I told him as I walked into the bathroom. I slammed the door, turned on the shower, sat on the dirty floor and cried.

"I need to shower, Cassia." Jax chided me, banging on the door. I had lost track of how much time I was sitting on the linoleum, but my ass was numb and I had turned the shower head off a long time ago. Reluctantly, I stood up and unlocked the door.

"Come in. I'm done." I was a robot. I brushed past him and resumed my sulking by lying on one of the full size beds. I must have drifted asleep because next thing I knew, Jax was shaking me awake.

"Get up!" He hissed. I recognized three things immediately: 1) it was too quiet, 2) the barrel of Jax's gun was cold against my shoulder, and 3) Jax had my arm in a vice like grip.

"What the hell is going on?" I whispered as he dragged me from the bed to floor. He had put the other mattress up over the doors and windows. He was still holding onto me. My bicep was now numb. I drew my 357 and waited.

"It's probably nothing." He answered.

"Then why are we…?" But six shots rang through the mattress and one came through an uncovered spot in the window. "Who the FUCK is that!?" I cried.

"Your friends from the gas station. They're part of Darby's extended crew. Recognized the bikes." He told me.

"And then followed us here?"

"Obviously," he spat at me.

"How is this my fault?! They would've recognized the Reaper on your bike whether I had talked to them or not. Not everything is my fucking fault Jackson." I hissed back, wrenching my arm away from his grip.

"Jesus Christ." He sighed, running his non-gun hand through his hair. I ignored him, and focused instead on my duties and a plan.

"I'll go out, without my gun, okay? Talk to them. See if this can be resolved. While I'm talking, take out as many as you can."

"That's not happening. You're not risking your life. They could shoot you on sight."

"We have one other option." I said gravely. He looked at me, his cold blue eyes colored with intrigue.

I mounted my motorcycle, keeping my head down as another storm of bullets came through the walls. Jax was near the door. I nodded and he pushed the mattress out of the way and opened the door. The four guys from the gas station were in a tight cluster near their Camaro. One hand on the throttle, the other on my gun, I sped through the open door. My backpack was heavy, for the first time, on my back and I wished that my helmet covered more of my face and that my cut was there to dull any shots to my heart. But I went, guns and engine blazing right at their cluster. Only Ashton was quick enough to throw himself out of the way before I collided with his friends. My bike landed on two of them, I threw myself onto the other with my gun forced into his mouth. Jax was behind me, pointing his weapon at Ashton.

"Give me a reason not to shoot you, ass hole." I told the guy I was sitting on. He didn't make any moves to speak. "Then I don't feel bad." I continued, pulling the trigger. He was gone instantly.

 **Present Day**

"Jenny…" Opie asked, shaking her a bit. I sighed again.

"She's out cold." I informed him.

"She's faking." Opie countered.

"She's not." I challenged. He smirked.

"She is!" We went on that way in the Clubhouse for a good 2 minutes before Jax stopped us.

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!" He screamed out of annoyance. We stopped immediately and Jenny shot back up, her long hair still grazing the giant wooden table..

"I think it works." She said dryly, referring to the new sleeper hold Opie was showing her. He had gotten a little too enthusiastic.

"Opie. I love you brother, but if you continue to knock out our Prospects I'm going to have to shoot you." He threatened as a knock came on the door. Tig and Bobby walked in. "Prospect, out." Jenny left dutifully, closing the door behind her.

"What's up?" Opie asked. Tig just shook his head before slumping into his chair. The rest of us took our places around the table. It was Bobby who spoke first.

"We have some news." He told us gravely.

"Spit it out." Jax ordered.

"Mr. Andrews is coming to Charming. Turns out Jenny is still in touch with him."

"What're you talking about?" I demanded.

"Your father is coming to Charming. He's got some business meetings with the Hales." Tig clarified, looking solemnly at me.

"Jenny led him here. We've been monitoring her texts and phone calls. She set the meetings up. I'll give her this: she might be a traitor, but she's a truly brilliant grifter." Bobby said gently. I could feel myself becoming hysterical. I couldn't even choose my words carefully, I just let everything come out of my mouth when I gathered the courage to speak.

"You guys don't understand. If Daddy is talking to Jenny then it means he knows. He knows that she told. She must be terrified. That explains everything, she must be acting out of fear. There can't be any other options. She wouldn't do this to me. She wouldn't do this to the club. She might be a bitch, but she's not disloyal. She takes her word very seriously. Or at least she did. No." I shook my head, my black hair flying all over the place. I had to push it away from my face to see that my brothers didn't believe me. I turned back to Jax. I could only imagine how wild I looked. " _You_ _have to let me talk to her first_. You have to let me talk to her before you kill her." I practically yelled. Jax, if he was scared, didn't show it. He just grabbed my hand, rubbing the inside of my wrist where one of his favorite of my tattoos was inked.

"We'll all talk to her. But maybe this isn't as bad as we thought. If that bastard is in Charming, there are a ton of different threats that could benefit from taking him out."

"Are you talking about proxying a retaliation?" Bobby, the quickest of the guys, asked.

"I'm talking about providing all us Outlaws with an adequate mutual target. A temporary truce between the baddest. All for the sake of Charming, of course. " Jax had a wicked gleam in his eye and I had no idea what to do with that. He appeared to be as unhinged as I was.

"You're talking about teaming up with the Mayans, the Niners, the Chinese, and Darby's crew to take out Miss Texas's father?" Juice, who'd snuck in sometime during my small freak out, clarified.

"How are we going to convince them that the bastard is a threat?" Opie asked, trying to get through to us.

"Jenny's proven to be quite an asset. I think she can provide us with enough evidence to stack against him. We might just have to play it out and see how this goes." Jax answered, kissing me on the forehead and getting up. He flung the great wooden doors open and smiled at the various Crow Eaters and hangers on that had gathered in the Clubhouse.

"I don't know which one of us is crazier." I told my brothers.

"Aye, Miss Texas. You're both a couple of nutters." Chibbs answered, clapping me on the back. We left the Clubhouse like an army preparing for war.


	9. Chapter 9

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar, I own the unfamiliar.**_

 **3.8 Years Ago**

"How do you feel?" Jax asked tenderly two nights later when we stopped for gas. I shook my head. I hadn't spoken since blowing Ashton's friend's head off. I was never going to speak again. "You did exactly the right thing, Cass." Jax said for the thousandth time. Yeah. Murder is always the right choice. That's why it's a felony. "No one is going to find out." He told me, reading my mind. I glared at him, sticking the nozzle into the bike we now shared. Riding bitch was the least of my worries. All I had to do was slump onto Jax's broad back and clear my mind. It was the easier thing to do and I never cared about my dignity, not with him. He opened his mouth as if he planned on saying something else, but had thought better of it. He also looked like he was going to enter the convenience store, but stopped himself again. Since leaving the middle of Nevada, he hadn't let me out of sight. We went everywhere together, even the shower. He'd close his eyes as I undressed and got in and out of the shower, handing me a towel and pleading with me to stay in the bathroom as he took the world's shortest and likely most ineffective shower. He was afraid I'd run. I was afraid I'd run. So now, as the bike drank gas like water, he grabbed my hand and led us into the store, going down every aisle, waiting for me to grab something to eat and drink. We had paced the entire store without grabbing anything for me. Jax had a couple Red Bulls and a couple more packages of chips, but I had blatantly refused to pick up anything. I knew what we must look like to the other people in the store: an abused girlfriend and her abuser. I could tell that I was making some people uncomfortable. Or we were making them uncomfortable. I kissed him on the cheek, for the sake of appearances, and he melted as he was reaching to grab some gum and some candy. He showed me several options, but I shook my head, picking up the Starburst instead. He smiled and paid, leading me back to bike. We mounted, me riding bitch again, and continued on the highway.

 **Present Day**

"What the hell's happening?" I whispered as harshly as I could muster to Jenny, dragging her into my guest bathroom. I had ridden home, where I knew she was grabbing lunch, after the meeting. I sunk my nails into her bicep and pinned her to the door by her throat with her forearm.

"Ack…Cassia!" She croaked.

"Tell. Me. What. You. Did." I hissed. She tried to scream again. "Keep it down. The Club is gonna be your worst nightmare if you don't set this straight with me." I said through clenched teeth. I loosened my grip on her throat.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" She whispered back, trying to get away from my grip.

"Why did you tell Daddy where we are? What crazy batshit logic did your twisted little brain create that made any of this a good idea?!" I cried quietly.

"How'd you find out?" She looked bewildered.

"What the fuck did you think this was, Jenny? We ain't some Cracker Jack club. Nothing happens in Charming that we don't know about and control. You are NOT this stupid."

"He called me, concerned for us and our well being."

"Did you hear yourself just now?" I deadpanned.

"Yeah, I know. But he's changed."

"Men like him don't change."

"I didn't tell him that we told the Club."

"YOU told the Club. YOUR CRAZY ASS TOLD THE CLUB. There is no 'we' here, Jennifer." I hissed, glaring again. "You don't understand. I cannot protect you from Jax's rage, from the Club's rage. I CANNOT help you here. You, Jennifer Andrews, are fucking screwed. And that's putting it lightly." I continued, releasing her entirely. "Why did you tell him where we were?" I tried again.

"So that they could kill him." She whispered back, her eyes mirroring my own from my breakdown during Chapel. "Your outright refusal to travel to Houston made sense, but Jax wouldn't be able to resist killing him if he was standing in Charming. So I set Daddy up with some major business deals, and Dad couldn't resist the promise of cash. He's going to be here and you can't stop it. He's going to die. And I made it happen."

Jenny walked away from me, out of the bathroom and into the house; into the shark's waters that became Charming. I took a deep breath, like I did before I went out on stage, fluffed my too-long hair, and put on my best "fuck you" face before following in her footsteps.


	10. Chapter 10

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar, I own the**_ __ _ **unfamiliar**_

 **3.8 Years Ago**

The scenery wasn't even scenery anymore. It just existed. It was just blurs that I couldn't escape. Not even Jax's back felt real. I was just a part of the machine; one with the bike and one with Jax. I fell asleep against him, my hands tied around his waist to make sure I didn't fall off. When I next awoke, we had stopped at a Harley dealership and he was untying me from him. He looked back at me, and I gave him a curious look.

"You need a bike. We can't keep this up for the entire trip and the trip back. One of us will kill each other before it's over." He explained. I shook my head and sighed, taking off my helmet and shaking out my long mane. The blonde streaks I had added hastily after being a Prospect had grown so that only random tips of my hair were blonde and I had obvious black roots. My mom would have been horrified. My dad might have been turned on. But nothing surprised me when it came to him anymore. I was numb.

"What a beautiful couple!" The salesperson said to us as we approached the showroom. I nearly scoffed, but Jax wrapped his arm around me, resting his hand in his favorite spot. I gave Jax an uneasy look, but he was too focused on the guy in front of us.

"My girl needs her own bike. Something fast and durable, but also lightweight. She needs a bike that handles well, a real versatile thing." Jax told the guy. My knowledge of motorcycles was limited entirely to fixing them and riding them. Buying a new bike was completely beyond me. It was like they were speaking gibberish. I let Jax lead me around the showroom as broker a deal with this dude on an all black Harley that seemed to be someone's minimalist dream.

"We'll get the guys to put some awesome Reapers on it once you're a patch," he reassured me, whispering in my ear under the guise of kissing my cheek. I pulled away instinctively and caught the hurt look on his face as he went back to talking to the dealer. I stuck close to him, but I wandered the showroom, feeling the ridges of the throttle under my fingers as I touched each motorcycle I passed. I went back to my new one as I saw Jax hand the salesman a giant wad of cash. I vaguely wondered where he kept that much money. I mounted my bike and was overwhelmed by the feeling of sanctuary. It was my home. I caught myself imagining the custom Sons of Anarchy decals I was gonna have made once I was patched. The throttle felt like butter under my palm. My old bike hadn't had that feeling. I felt sad for it now, rusting in a ditch somewhere on the Nevada border.

"She looks like she likes it." The salesperson whispered to Jax, thinking I couldn't hear. But I had impressive hearing. It's what made me an asset. I smiled, knowing something they didn't. "That's the first time I've seen her smile since you brought her in here." He continued. I braced myself for Jax's reaction.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "I think that she's just so sad that she's lost a part of herself, you know? We're coming from visiting her family. They never got along."

"I haven't spoken to my parents in years. Tell her to keep her head up. She'll be okay."

"Thank you sir. And thanks for the bike. It's perfect for her."

Jax couldn't have been more right. The Harley was just an extension of my arms, my hands, my body. I kept smiling as we burned rubber through the west.

 **Present Day**

"I've been thinking." I said to Chibbs in my slow Southern drawl as we stood in line for FroYo. We were all decked out in Anarchy, and the Frozen Yogurt patrons looked dubious at the sight of us. They should be thanking us though, because if it wasn't for me the place wouldn't have been here at all. Clay was trying to block its construction. I convinced Jax to make sure it passed, all because of my love of FroYo. Now, I was here at least three times a week, usually with Chibbs, and we sat in the back booth and talked about anything other than the Club.

"That's never good." He replied dryly, filling his cup with a disgusting combination of caramel frozen yogurt, cookie dough, Swedish fish, and peaches.

"You're gross."

"And you are boring. You get the same thing every time, Miss America, low fat raspberry sorbet with fudge brownie pieces and chocolate sauce." He exclaimed, putting our bowls on the weighing machine. "Ye should learn to mix it up a bit!" He continued raving, handing the cashier a wad of cash that covered significantly more than the price of our combined ounces. She looked bewildered, holding several hundred dollars to pay for a $15 charge.

"Chibbs." I glared at him.

"Right, darlin, my apologies." He took back everything but a $20 bill. "I don't need change. Consider it a tip." He winked, and she swooned.

"Please check her State ID before having sex with her. It would be truly unfortunate if you got locked up for statutory rape." I hissed as we walked to our familiar place.

"Please Miss America, I have a wife."

"How is Fee?" I shot back.

"You said you'd been thinking…" he prompted, blatantly trying to change the subject.

"Mmhmm. I win." I gloated. He just glared. "I've been thinking about my sister's situation."

"Her being a Prospect? Or what?" He took his first spoonful.

"No, no SAMCRO business at Frozen Heaven. I think that she should try to assimilate her more. She needs to be introduced to more Charming stuff. She should really be a part of this town."

"What'd 'ya mean?" He asked, hiis mouth full. "Oooh brain freeze." I giggled.

"She needs a Charming boyfriend. You know, better than anyone else, that Jax was the only reason Charming accepted me and the only reason I got through being a Prospect."

"Are you asking me to fuck your sister?" He asked, bewildered.

"Absolutely not. And if you do, I'll chop off your balls." I said seriously, giving him the look I always gave people who threatened the Club.

"Alright, alright! I won't fuck her. I'll just dream about it." He grinned. I rolled my eyes. "Who'd you have in mind?"

"Happy."

"I think Happy dismembered the last girl he fucked, after he fucked her. And isn't he a little old?"

"The only other person near her age is Opie, and he has Lyla."

"No, they filed for divorce. She doesn't want kids."

"Opie's not gonna want a wife who's in the life. Where would that leave his kids? Plus Happy and Jenny are well suited."

"Ye mean they're both crazy?"

"That's exactly what I mean." He looked away from me. "What?"

"Cassia, this…it…nothing is going to change Jax's mind about getting rid of her. I'm so sorry Cass, but no matter what, your sister will probably need to die."

"I want her to be happy when it happens."

"Literally, apparently." He replied in his usual dry tone. I rolled my eyes again.

"I know what's best for her. And I know it's best for the Club, if she did betray us. But we don't know that she has yet, and I'm going to be a little optimistic until the evidence shows otherwise. Either way, she's still being treated as a Prospect. Might as well let her milk it."

"What about how seriously the club takes her?"

"They already think she's a rat, so it's not like she can do anything to change that." I shrugged.

"That's another reason that Happy isn't gonna go for her."

"Okay, are there any local guys with balls and an open mind?" I was desperate now. Chibbs was quiet for a few moments as we finished our frozen yogurt. Then he grinned wickedly, in that way that made me nervous.

"I think I have the perfect guy. He'd be okay with a girl carrying a gun."

"Oh Lord." I sighed.


	11. Chapter 11

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar, I own the unfamiliar**_

 **3.8 Years Ago**

"I tried to book us the best hotel room in the entire state." Jax prefaced as we walked, dirty and scruffy, though the highly polished and brightly lit foyer of the hotel he had spent 45 minutes on the phone with trying to book the room in the first place. I raised an eyebrow as we approached the front counter. The woman behind the counter also looked confused.

"Hello, checking in?" She asked skeptically, noting the dirt on his cheek and the dust on my boots. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Yes ma'am, the name is Harrison Ford. This is my wife, Rebecca." He smiled his thousand watt smile. "There's no relation to the actor, unfortunately." He laughed. The hotel clerk eased and laughed too.

"The honeymoon suite. How romantic! Here are your keys, let us know if there's anything we can do for you all." She smiled and handed him a paper envelope. We were silent as we rode the elevator to the 12th floor, and when the doors opened to the glittery penthouse room, I gasped.

"It's great, right? Do you love it?"

"I need a shower." I croaked, dropping my bags and heading to the bathroom. He didn't follow me this time.

"How can you afford to buy me a bike and get this hotel room?" I asked when I came out into the bedroom, my hair and body wrapped in a towel. It was the first time in what felt like weeks that I actually felt clean. Jax just seemed relieved that I was talking.

" The Club does well. I had to dip into my personal savings a bit, but I can afford it."

"You have tens of thousands of dollars at your disposal at any given moment because of the shit you do for SAMCRO."

"I just choose to save most of it. Ever notice I have the fewest tattoos? The smallest house? My rings don't have jewels."

"You live cheap because you want to?"

"Yeah. Except, when I don't want to."

"Like now."

"Just like right now." He confirmed. I nodded, accepting it.

"I can look forward to this life?" It was his turn to nod.

"You'll have more money than you'll know what to do with." He answered.

"So I'll be an assassin." He looked taken aback. He had been getting up from the bed but was literally stopped in his tracks.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll be paid for being a murderer. The technical word for that is 'assassin'. The word is Islamic in origin, in case you were curious."

"Are you a genius?"

"Good memory. Don't avoid the subject."

"You can't think of it that way. It's not like that was the first person you've ever killed."

"The first one whose blood then splashed all over my face, Jackson!"

"Cassia, I get it. It's not okay. But he compromised the club. He messed with SAMCRO. This is the life. This is what you signed up for. Just because he wasn't wearing a Mayan cut or had a swastika tattooed on his face doesn't necessarily mean he wasn't the bad guy. He was still the bad guy. He tried to kill us. It was self defense."

"Self defense was totaling my bike while running them over. Vengeance and revenge was shooting him in the face."

"That's what we do Cassia. We get revenge. We don't kill innocents, we only kill those who deserve to die. And he deserved to die. You _have_ to know that!" He cried, throwing his hands in the air. Over our journey, his hair and grown even longer. It was nearly touching his clavicle now. Even though my parents never liked them, all my boyfriends had had long hair. Some had hair longer than mine. So, as if pulled by the magnet of his hair, and by my love for him, I walked over to Jax. I let him wrap his arms around my waist, and I buried my face into his neck. He was right; I wanted to be an Outlaw. I wanted the vengeance, the revenge, the justice of killing someone who truly deserved to die. I wanted to play God, and SAMCRO gave me that opportunity. When Jax kissed me, then, I melted into him as I had that first night so long ago. He owned me now, completely and totally.

Jax tightened his grip on me, pulling me impossibly closer. I entangled my hands in his hair, letting the towel fall to the floor. He stopped kissing me, but kept one hand where my ass met my lower back.

"God, you're beautiful." He whispered, hungrily searching my body with his eyes. He used his free hand to remove the towel from my hair, letting it fall to the floor to join the other. I shook my head, letting the wet curls cascade to the middle of my back. Jax was still wearing his cut, his white t shirt, and dirty jeans. I pushed the leather off his back before kissing him again. I snaked one hand down to his pants, where I gingerly took his growing erection in my fingertips. Jax hissed against my lips almost immediately and pushed his hips into my hand.

"Why'd I ever think I could stay away from you?" He moaned as I stroked him through his jeans. He cupped my ample breasts in his hands, running his calloused thumb over each nipple. I cried out in response.

"You're the first guy I've been with." I whispered, silently adding "that mattered" at the end of the confession. I didn't want to tell him about my past, not right then.

"I'll be the only guy you've been with, baby." He responded, moving away from me to take off his clothes. His creamy skin was marred with bruises, healed gunshot wounds, and dirt. Each and every inch of him was perfect, to me. That's what I cried out when he first entered me, slowly, gently, cautiously as if he was testing the waters. He was fully inside me when he turned pale.

"What's wrong?" I asked, nervous that he'd changed his mind about wanting me, wanting this.

"I don't have a condom on…" he said. I sighed in relief, and let out a giggle. "I've missed that sound." He smiled at me and I could see the love in his eyes. I couldn't care less about the condom or my lack of birth control. I didn't care if I got pregnant with quadruplets as long as they were his, so I hooked my legs around his waist and pushed him further inside me.

"Make me scream, Jackson." I demanded. He paused to kiss the old gunshot wound on my shoulder and then he was off. We matched thrusts for what felt like hours before finally releasing together. Apparently, all we needed was murder to bond us together.

 **Present Day**

"You want me to double date with you and your sister and Drew King?" Jax asked that night as we laid in post-coital bliss. I had thought that riding him like a porn star would have made him more agreeable to this plan, but I had been wrong. He was just as angry as I had expected him to be.

"That's exactly what I want." I replied, using my sultriest voice.

"What the fuck are we, some white picket fence couple? Are we normal today?" He snapped. "Last I heard, we're Outlaws. We don't do double dates."

"You and Tara used to double with Lyla and Opie all the time."

"I thought we'd agreed not to say her name."

"Sorry, you're right, I'm sorry. Just do me this one favor."

"I've heard that one before. First Frozen Heaven and now this. Not to mention everything happening in between."

"Babe, I love you. And I do anything I can for you. Always. It's one dinner, outside Charming. And as a bonus treat, it'll be old school. We'll be normal again for a night."

"You think that's what I want? A normal you?"

"I know you love me for who I am, I'm not worried about it. But it'll help me out to just forget about the tattoos and the Outlaw shit for a few hours."

"But Drew King, Cassia? He's a total tool." He spat. I repressed a laugh.

"You just hated him in High School because he didn't live or die by SAMCRO."

"His uncle was First 9. He should've been there with me and Opie."

"Maybe this can be his way back in? Lord knows we need bodies."

"You're not worried about your job? Drew used to be a hell of a good shot."

"No one can protect you better than me. And I'd really have to fuck up to lose my Sergeant at Arms patch. And he'd have to really prove his worth. Either way, we're talking about ridiculous hypotheticals that would only happen if certain stars aligned or misaligned."

"Okay, okay. We'll go. Tomorrow night. We'll be normal."

"Wear a suit. No cut."

"Jesus Christ."

Drew and Jax, both in black suits, were drinking silently in the living room as Jennifer insisted on finally cutting the blonde out of my hair.

"You look like Gemma." She chided, gathering my hair in a low ponytail and securing the elastic at the very end where all of the blonde had centrally located. She cut surely and swiftly, and most importantly, evenly. She shook the cut strands from the SON sweatshirt I was wearing over my dress. "Take it off, I'll curl it."

"Jennifer." I warned. "I've had to tell you this 18 times tonight already. I might be an Outlaw, but I haven't forgotten how to get pretty."

"Obviously. You found that dress in the depths of your closet well enough."

"And my eye makeup is perfect."

"Yes it is."

"So I can curl my own hair." I concluded, wrapping some hair around the curling iron. We worked in silence, her straightening her hair, me curling mine. I was wearing an emerald green designer evening dress that had been the staple of my pageant wear. It was slinky, hugging my new curves in ways the dress never did before. It pushed my breasts forward so that they were the prominent feature of the outfit, but not in a skanky way. Jennifer wore a midnight blue gown that she had stolen from one of her photo shoots. It was backless and a halter top, which was good for her since she didn't have my cup size. We both had on silver heels and smoky eye shadow. We were bombshells, stepping out like we used to in Texas. Jax had never seen me like this, so I was anxious for his reaction. Gemma had the kids, so we were free to stay out as late as we wanted.

"Ready?" I asked Jenny.

"Totally." She smirked, linking elbows with me. We glided out to the living room where we were met with gasps. Jax rose first, wrapping me up in his arms again, and kissing me deeply.

"You look amazing darlin." He whispered, resting his hands on my waist gingerly.

"Jennifer, you look stunning." Drew told my sister, over Jax's right shoulder, offering her his hand.

"We'll meet you at the restaurant. Get to know each other." I instructed them.

"See ya soon!" She smiled. Drew was just her type: 6 foot 4 even, tanned, green eyes, and a strong body and jaw. He looked like money. Like he had been somebody or could be somebody. My sister loved the appearance of power more than she loved power itself.

"Are you carrying?" Jax asked seriously one they had left.

"You're not making me kill my sister at dinner." I deadpanned.

"Very funny. No, I'm just making sure we're protected. I have mine, but I'd like you to have yours."

"Of course I have my 357."

"Where?!" He asked, obviously bewildered. I stuck my leg out from the slit in the dress, and exposed the gun that was securely strapped to the inside of my thigh by a holster. "Damn, I love you." He smiled once he saw the gun.


	12. Chapter 12

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar; I own the unfamiliar**_

 **3.7 Years Ago**

Denver, at least for the Sons, was in shambles. Even though neither of us wore cuts, the moment we crossed the city lines we felt targeted. Jax wouldn't risk pulling over, he pulled alongside me and gave me a sharp look before ripping through the residential streets at top speed. Before following him, I drew my 357 and kept it in my hand, wrapping only the tips of my fingers around the throttle. Jax led us through twists and turns, doubling back a few times to be sure we weren't followed before he pulled into the open garage of a nondescript two story home near the mountains.

Chase, the president of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Denver Chapter, closed the door behind us, locking it with a deadbolt. Two members of SAMDEN then stood in front of the door.

"Jax, brother, it's good to see you. Thank you for coming. I told Clay that it wasn't worth risking your life, but he was adamant." Chase was shorter, probably around 5 foot 5, with a thick black beard and a silver hair cropped short. His arms were covered in tattoos, two full colorful sleeves of reapers and latin phrases. His blue eyes were hardened and constantly roaming the room to see if anything was amiss. I had on black skinny jeans with my combat boots and a chunky teal sweater. I had both my backpack and Jax's bag on my back.

"It's not a problem. When a brother is in trouble, we gotta help him out." Jax responded, gesturing to me. "This is our Prospect, Cassia."

"I've heard a lot about you." Came a voice from around the corner. My trigger finger itched the 357 as this unknown tall guy came into view. Standing at close to 7 feet tall with long dreadlocks and a Vice President's patch was the second most attractive man I'd ever seen. His green eyes shone in a way that made me uncomfortable as he reached his hand out for me to shake.

"Gregory Diamond, it's nice to finally put a face to the legend." He smiled, seemingly unaware that Jax was inching even closer to me. "It is also, of course, an honor to have Jackson Teller in our temporary clubhouse."

"It's an honor to be here." Jax replied, stepping forward to shake Gregory's hand. Just then, three small pops rang out through the house. The two men guarding the door dropped to the ground, their blood pooling around them. I shoved Jax behind me and forced the two of us to our knees. My gun was in my combat boot, and I grabbed it as two more shots were fired from beyond the door. I checked to make sure the barrel was completely loaded before inching forward to the dead men. I was able to slide their weapons to the gathering Sons of Anarchy contingency behind me.

"What the fuck is going on, Chase?" Jax whispered as I crawled back to the group. But then, a small grenade blasted the door back and it hit Chase square in the chest. 4 Mayans stormed through as SAMDEN scurried away from the blast. Jax grabbed my arm, pulling me behind a couch in the living room. He held three guns in one hand. Silently, he passed the hunting rifle to me. More footsteps and gunshots charged through the small house. The Mayans hit the wall more often as they hit a Son.

"I'm gonna take some of them out." I told Jax, yelling above the din. He shook his head vigorously, even going so far as to grab my leg as I stood, but I was stubborn. I raised the rifle to my shoulder and fired round after round at the Mayans, taking one out with every shot. I popped back down when Jax succeeding in tugging at my pants. "I killed a few of them. But they're still coming. Most of SAMDEN is dead, Jax. I don't know what happened to Gregory…" a bullet ripped through the couch, missing the both of us by inches. We bolted in opposite directions, Jax standing and taking out a couple more Mayans on one side if the living room, heading toward the kitchen and me firing shots as I walked back to the front door. As I rounded that corner, seeing the two dead guards, I noticed that there weren't any motorcycles anywhere. There wasn't a van. There wasn't any sign of any boot prints in the muddy walkway, either. A bullet grazed my shoe, tearing a hole in the leather. I ran from the shooter, back towards my VP, leaping over bodies and fighting through smoke as I went. Someone had lit Chase's body on fire. I could see his President's patch curling from the flames. Something wasn't right. Most of SAMDEN was dead, caught unawares and feeling safe. Someone had to know that Jax and I were coming, their attack was too well timed. I didn't see any more Mayans as I searched for Jax; there were no more gunshots.

"Where the fuck is everyone?" I said out loud, pushing open another door with the muzzle of the borrowed rifle. This was a bedroom, Jax was on the ground with bloodied knuckles and a ripped shirt. Gregory Diamond was standing above him, two Mayans flanking him. Gregory's nose was clearly broken.

"Clay can't have you in the way anymore, Jackson. You're fucking up his plans for the future. I'll tell them that you and that Prospect bitch died at the hands of the Mayans. You'll get the funeral you deserve." He sneered, taking his gun out of his holster. I shot the Mayans before he could even raise the weapon. Even without a shoe, I was able to get between Jax and Gregory's gun. Before anyone could react, I shot him in the heart with my 357. Then, I called Opie and Chibbs and forced them to get on the next flight.

Jax and I were stranded in that house for hours before Opie pulled a giant Chevy truck up to the blown out door. I had worked in silence over Jax's wounds as he had done for me in Nevada two years ago, kissing him gently as I went. There were a couple bullet holes, not in any arteries or organs, but he was mostly beat up. Diamond and the Mayans had beat him up to subdue him.

"I'm the man, I'm supposed to be taking care of you." Jax had said once, about an hour and a half into our wait.

"I'm your brother, Jackson, let me help you." I whispered back, using my last clean shirt to wrap one of his bullet holes.

"I'm never going to know how to navigate that line, Cass." He admitted, closing his eyes and resting his head on my shoulder.

"I know you're not. That's why you have me." I smiled at him, trying to keep my tears from leaking through, and cupped his face in my hand. When Chibbs and Opie finally got there, darkness had fallen. They found us curled around each other, me singing Hallelujah as I tried to keep him awake. Neither of them asked questions when Jax wouldn't let me go.

A few months later, I walked through the Clubhouse doors feeling the tension in the air. From the moment Jax and I had returned from Denver four months ago, Clay had rightfully been on edge. You could tell he wasn't expecting us to return alive. Jax and I hadn't talked to anyone about Clay's plot to kill us, he claimed to be waiting for the right time to drop that bomb on the club. But we avoided Clay as much as we could. Jax was also spending every night at my studio apartment, not caring who saw the Dyna sharing my parking space. Jax took it upon himself to rebuild SAMDEN after Gregory Diamond's betrayal. We took rides up to Denver together, this time with Chibbs, Opie, Half Sack, and Juice to eliminate the Mayan problem with the three surviving members of the original charter. We worked with smaller, local, motorcycle clubs in the area to boost their numbers. I tried to avoid Clay too when I was in town, but it wasn't easy. He seemed to be everywhere. Now, as I walked through the Club doors, my heels clicked against the hardwood and I walked with purpose. The text message that had summoned me here was burning a hole in my skinny jeans pocket. The words "full table" and "vote" stuck out the most in my head. Voting on what? My two years had been up a couple months ago,, but no one had mentioned whether or not I'd be patched. I figured I'd just Prospect until Clay couldn't ride anymore.

I knocked on the heavy wooden doors.

"Come in Prospect." Clay ordered, his voice angry. I gulped, straightened my face and my cut, and opened the doors with shaking hands. Everyone looked somber and angry. I took a deep breath.

"How can I be of assistance?" I asked the Club, my voice squeaking only a little bit. I knew that if I wasn't patched in, I'd die. I'd killed too many people and pissed off too many rival gangs to make it out of California, let alone San Joaquin, alive.

"So your two years are up." Clay began. I nodded. "How do you think you've done?"

"I've been an asset to the Club." I answered confidently.

"Maybe. Not everyone agrees with you on that. Does that surprise you?" He continued conversationally.

"Not at all."

"Why?"

"Because you're all smart men. You're weighing the risk of me against the reward and it's not necessarily coming out equally. But I do one thing very, very well. I'm the second best shooter you have. And I can hold my own in hand to hand combat. I'm an asset because I'm an unlikely enforcer. No one expects the pretty girl to kill you." I answered again, mustering the strength I had once worn like armor. Clay looked around the table before picking up the gavel.

"All in favor of patching in Miss America?" He asked. The question was met with a unanimous "aye". He banged the gavel down on the table and suddenly everyone was smiling at me and then Jax was sweeping me into his arms, twirling me around, taking off my Prospect cut, and putting me back down.

"Oh my God this is really happening?!" I asked the person in front of me. It happened to be Juice, who hugged me close.

"Welcome to SAMCRO Miss America. You're my sister now."

"Shut up everybody!" Jax cried, and everyone quieted down. He held up my new cut, my official Sons of Anarchy leather with great pride. "We don't usually do this, but you've earned a couple patches while being a Prospect. It's more a testament to the dangerous times we live in now, but it also rewards your unwavering courage. You are a woman of Mayhem. You spilled more blood, your own and others, for this club in two years as a Prospect than some of us have in two years as members. And you have the Unholy Ones patch for your bravery in protecting me against that traitor Gregory Diamond," Jax shot Clay a meaningful look. "You deserve these patches, Cassia." He winked at me. I started beaming. "To our first ever Daughter of Anarchy!" He draped the cut over my shoulders, mirroring what he'd done when we first met. The leather was cool on my skin. Clean, perfectly tailored, and my own. It was cut differently than the guys' were, accentuating my slim waist. Jax and Chibbs must have picked it out. I turned to hug Jax after I'd put the leather on, but he swept me up again, this time kissing me with full force in front of all of our brothers.

 **Present Day**

"So, King, how's business?" Jax asked, tense. I cut my broccoli and chicken finely, focusing on my plate. Jax was across from me at the table, sitting between Jenny and Drew.

"You have your own business?" Jenny asked, obviously interested. She took a sip of her wine.

"Yeah. I own all of the gas stations in town. King's Gas, fit for royalty, priced for peasants." He recited his commercial spot.

"I didn't realize you were of _those_ King's." Jenny purred. I stared at the Reaper on my inner forearm. I was going to kill Chibbs.

"Yep, one in the same. And business is good, Teller. How's the Outlaw life?" Drew smirked. Before Jax could reply, I casually grabbed Drew's wrist, the blade of my steak knife pressed against his vein.

"Let's be civil gentlemen. We are on a date, after all." I said brightly, staring at Drew and cutting a small line into the sleeve of his suit coat.

"You're right, my apologies, I didn't mean to offend the ladies." He acquiesced. I removed the impending threat, wiped it off on my napkin and went back to cutting my food.

"You know, the two of you are more alike than you'd care to admit." I continued. "You're both in your family businesses, for instance."

"I doubt you'll find any more similarities," Jax said in a warning tone. I ignored him.

"Both of you have fallen in love with an Andrews girl." I added.

"I'm not in love yet…" Drew stuttered.

"Oh, you will be." I promised.

"And, both of you are SAMCRO royalty. Whether you like it or not. You have a sense of duty." I finished, popping some chicken into my mouth and savoring the taste. "Why don't we all focus on what makes us the same, instead of different." I suggested once I had swallowed my food.

"I think that's a great idea, Cass." Jenny smiled, patting my wrist, where "daughter of anarchy" encircled the bone in black cursive ink.

"Jenny, tell me about yourself. How'd you end up in Charming?" Drew asked.

"I'm a former model from Houston, I came to Charming to be with my sister. She's my rock."

"Did you know about the Club?"

"No, we were estranged until I got here a few months ago. But, she's amazing and she's been showing me the ropes." Jenny said. Drew nearly choked on his food.

"Are you saying you're SAMCRO?" He said loudly, alerting the attentions of the other restaurant patrons. I was all too aware now of the bits and pieces of the Sons of Anarchy tattoo that was visible on my back. I might as well have worn my cut.

"Jesus Christ, King." Jax sneered.

"Why don't we steer away from all Club talk?" I said through clinched teeth. "If SAMCRO comes out of either of your mouths one more goddamn time, I'll slit Drew's throat." I threatened quietly.

"Sorry baby." Jax answered, kissing my hand, showing me my respect as the Queen and as his Old Lady. Surprisingly, Drew kept with it. He sat, ate his food, flirted with Jenny, and so on for the duration of the night. She even went home with him.

"I don't trust him." Jax said in the car on the way home.

"You didn't trust him before today, either."

"Do _you_ trust him?"

"Of course I don't, Jax, but I think that it would be better for Jenny if she had someone, so if he's it for her then that's fine with me."

"He isn't in the life."

"Not everyone can transition from Outlaws to a relationship as seamlessly as we can." I joked.

"Come on Cassia, be serious." He chided before the car was illuminated by the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

"Watch out!"


	13. Chapter 13

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar; I own the unfamiliar**_

 **3 Years Ago**

"You two have been fucking this entire time?!" Tig cried after I slapped Jax across the face. Jax rubbed his jaw where I hit him.

"Obviously not, she just hit me." Jax pointed out, gesturing to the red bruise that had already spread across his face.

"Tig, keep your jealousy intact. Jax, don't ever kiss her again." Clay said, placating both parties.

"Thanks for the cut, I appreciate the patch." I directed my attention to Clay for the first time since I came back from Denver. Jax, although he was still upset that I hit him, stayed close to me. I could tell he was itching to mark me as his in an attempt to protect me from Clay's wrath.

"You earned it, Miss Texas." He smiled at me. But it was a creepy smile and one that Jax's sharp eyes took notice of, so I wasn't surprised when he showed up at my door again that night.

"Oh look, a Jackson Teller." I greeted him, my true southern drawl stronger than ever because of the glass of whiskey in my hand and the cigarette between my fingers. He looked me up and down, taking in my boy shorts and sports bra.

"You're mine, right?" He asked huskily, coming in through the door past me. I locked the deadbolt on the door once he was inside. He poured himself a stiff drink and lit himself a cigarette.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I answered, shutting and locking the door.

"You are my girlfriend." Jax clarified, draining his glass and pouring himself another one. He topped mine off too.

"Yeah, baby. I'm your girl."

"You're my _Old Lady_. Yeah?" He pressed.

"Is that a thing? Can I be in the Club and be your Old Lady at the same time?" I sat down at the table in my tiny apartment.

"I mean, this is completely unchartered territory. I think that you can be whoever you want to be and define your own role. Especially when I become President."

"When are you becoming President?"

"It's time to tell everyone that Clay tried to have us killed. He almost stopped Opie and Chibbs from coming to help us. He wanted us trapped in that house, vulnerable, for as long as possible."

"You've gotta be kidding me." I sighed.

"Nope. He's blind with power."

"And you're not?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, outraged.

"No doubt, Clay has to go. That's not even a discussion. But do you think he should be ousted because you want the job or because he wants you dead?"

"Are you my Old Lady now or are you my brother?"

"I'm whomever you'll listen to." I countered, volleying back to him. He sighed again and ran his hands through his hair.

"I get why you slapped me. I shouldn't have kissed you at your patching over." He conceded. "And I don't want to be President for the power, I want to be President so that we all don't die. I used the last of my chips to get you patched in right now. I need your vote, baby."

"Then you have my vote. End of the conversation. Now please, for the love of God, make love to me." I smiled, given courage by my whiskey, and kissed him sloppily. He steadied us, picking me up effortlessly, and stabilizing us against a wall. He kissed me hard, his tongue poking around my mouth, knotting with mine.

"God I love you." He said between kisses.

"I love you too."

 **Present Day**

Things were beeping in my ear. That was the first thing I noticed when I woke up. There were beeping things everywhere and it made my head hurt. Or maybe my head hurting was a side effect of whatever the hell the beeping machines were monitoring.

"Jackson?" I said, but there was a tube in my mouth stopping me from speaking. Instinctively, I ripped it out. Then, I promptly vomited. And vomited again. A pair of hands pulled my long hair back, away from the line of fire.

"You probably should've left that in." Chibbs's voice came from above me. I squinted at the person holding the bucket. Juice. Great.

"I puked on you, Juice?" I asked, hoarse.

"It's okay Miss Texas. I got your back." He smiled broadly, his usual Juice smile. But as it was, this was the closest we had gotten in 5 years.

"Where the fuck is Jax?" I asked.

"He's in another room, Miss Texas."

"What the hell happened? Someone better start talking immediately." I croaked again.

"It was a hit and run. No one saw anything. It was a big SUV from the looks of how totaled your Camry is. Hit the passenger side straight on, everyone has been saying how lucky ye are." Chibbs reassured me.

"Chibbs, how lucky am I?" I asked, scared at the look on his face.

"You can't ride for at least a couple months. Right arm, left leg are broken. And you're not gonna win any pageants until your face heals up." He clarified. I gulped. That explained the casts.

"And Jax?"

"Jax'll be fine. Just a couple broken ribs. He usually comes by to see you around this time. It's whenever he can convince a nurse to help him into a wheelchair.

"When can he ride? If we can't ride we can't vote."

"He seems to think he can ride right now. But someone is gonna have to tie him on." Juice told me, breaking the news as gently as possible.

"He seems to think? What the fuck? Oh my God, oh my God." I started to hyperventilate. "Was I not breathing regularly?" I asked when I calmed down.

"You were in a coma for a couple weeks, Miss Texas." Juice continued.

"Holy shit." I broke into tears. "Look away! Don't see me cry, I'm not supposed to cry."

"If you press the button connected to your left wrist you get morphine." Juice said, really excited. "It might be vicodin, I'm not sure. But it's strong as fuck!"

"Juice, get out." Chibbs smiled, pointing to the door. He started typing away on his cell phone as Juice sheepishly left the room. "Jacky boy will be here in a hot second, don't you worry, Texas. In the meantime, scoot over, and you rest your crying eyes on my shoulder." He said, wrapping his arms around me and my plaster. We watched as the tears fell onto his leather.

"I don't have a vote for 2 months?" I asked.

"You're just an Old Lady for 2 months."

"Cassia!" Jax called, limping through the door. I lifted my head up and smiled at him.

"Hey babe."

"Oh don't you ever scare me like that again." He sobbed, tangling his hands in my hair and pulling me toward him gently. Chibbs moved away as stealthily as possible. "Bro, thanks for watching over her. I owe you one."

"Not a problem, Jacky boy. She's my sister." Chibbs answered simply, ruffling my hair and leaving us alone.

"How are the kids? Who has Abel and Katherine?"

"They're fine, they're with my mom."

"Where's my sister?"

"I don't know."

"What the hell you mean you don't know?" I screamed, pushing the button on my left wrist so hard my fingers turned pale.

"She…she and King have been missing for two weeks. We're looking for her, Cass, but there's no luck so far. I promise, we've got like 6 charters looking. It's all hands on deck. Chibbs is calling the shots, but he's going through me first. No one is slacking on your sister."

"Then why wasn't he out there! Why were he and Juice in here?"

"Because I only trust SAMCRO to protect you. We don't know what this was yet, Cassia. We don't know if this was an accident or if we were targeted. You and I could be in danger, so some Redwood patch is always gonna be at our doors, with a couple guns."

"Oh my God." I said again, leaning into him.

"Oooph." He winced. "We're gonna have to work on that."

"My sister is missing and we don't have votes."

"I can ride. The nurses let me try. It hurts, but I can still be President when I get out tomorrow." He told me. "I'll find your sister."

"So it's just me then?" I said, somberly.

"You'll be Queen." He tried, holding my good hand.

"I never wanted to be Queen. I wanted to be Sergeant at Arms. Who's gonna protect you while I'm Queen?" I spat the word at him with all the venom the morphine/vicodin was pumping into my system.

"Happy's gonna take over while you recover."

"Of course he is."

"You trust me with him, though, right?" Jax asked, holding me again.

"Of course I do. He taught me how to refine my skills. And how to kill. I know he has your back." We were quiet for awhile, listening to each other's breathing and feeling the new textures that were my arms and legs. "If Jenny has been missing, it's either because she's with Drew, she's in on this, or she's in huge danger. Jax, has anyone heard from my dad? He was supposed to be here by now."

"Do you think he's a part this? Do you think he could have been responsible?" He asked, suddenly very twitchy.

"If he's here, then he's been watching us for however long he's been here. Jax, he hates it when me and Jenny and dated. All through high school, he drove them away. I don't know how he did it, but he did. If he saw us on that double date, he very well could've been coming for us. Jackson, you don't know what this man is capable of."

"I will NEVER leave you, Cassia Belle Andrews. You are my heart, my protector, my brother, and my best friend. Those other dudes were weak, Cassia. I'm not weak. I will kill your father if he tries to come between us, do you understand me?" He said firmly, staring at me with his cold blue eyes.

"Do what you have to do, baby." I said quietly, kissing him lightly.

"I love you," we said in unison.


	14. Chapter 14

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar, I own the unfamiliar**_

 **3 Years Ago**

I was in the Clubhouse again, three weeks after I'd been patched, cleaning my gun and waiting for Jax. We'd been testing the waters a bit, first stealing too-long hugs or holding hands in front of the Club. This week, we'd been more touchy feely. I'd sit on his lap, or play with his hair in front of the guys. Things had died down recently, and I'd made more than enough money on protection runs, adding to my already sizable bank account. So it wasn't unusual that I was alone in the Clubhouse. It was also not unusual that Jax was late. He'd been sleeping more lately, claiming he needed to get more sleep now since our plan to oust Clay was almost in motion and he wouldn't sleep when he became President. This gave me enough time to thoroughly clean my 357 at least three times a week. The doors opened and I barely flinched until I saw Clay.

"Where is everybody?" He barked. His default state was anger now. I was scared he could tell we were planning on getting rid of him, but Jax told me to keep calm and act normal.

"Not sure. I just needed to clean my gun." I responded truthfully, loading the weapon.

"You sure you're not waiting to fuck Jax on that couch? He pulled in right behind me." He said wickedly. I tried to steel my psyche to this.

"I have no intention of having sex with Jax, or anyone else, on this couch." I reassured him. He sat down next to me, sliding a hand up the inside of my thigh. I tried to move away but he clamped his palm down to keep me in place. Even with the arthritis, he was still surprisingly strong.

"Nope, you don't get away that easily." He sneered. I took a deep breath.

"Clay, I'm not…I don't know what you think is going on, but it's not. Whatever it is, it's not happening." I said slowly, trying not to shake.

"Then you're a free girl, huh? You're patched now, what about showing me some gratitude?" He growled, his other hand now moving to my face. I tried pulling away again, but he didn't let me go. I almost started to hyperventilate, he was on top of me now. 'Where the hell is Jax' I screamed in my head. I tried pushing Clay away again, but he was too big. I had resigned myself to my fate when two more hands joined the mix. Then Clay was off me, and on the floor. I opened my eyes to Jax's back facing me.

"What the hell are you doing Clay?!" He cried.

"I thought she wasn't yours!" Clay cried back, getting up. I sat up too.

"It doesn't matter whose she is, she was clearly saying no! We don't RAPE women, especially not our own members!" Jax cried, going face to face with Clay. I jumped up, got between them and faced Jax.

"Stop it! Both of you. I'm fine, it was a misunderstanding. I'm sure it was just a final test of my loyalty to the Club and of my intentions. Let's just go to the range like we had planned, Jax." I said as soothingly as possible without being overly placating. He nodded and stepped back from Clay. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"But, Clay, just to let you know, Cassia's not just a member. She's also my old lady. So keep your fucking hands off her." His voice was nonchalant, conversational, but he was livid, the three of us knew that. Clay got the message.

 **Present Day**

"And then he said 'Goodnight Moon'", I finished reading to Abel and Katherine one night, a few days later. I was in the house Jax and I bought when I was pregnant with Katie and it became obvious that we'd need to expand. I was frustrated because I could only wrap my arms around one child at a time, and since Katie was still so young, she fought for the attention more than Abel did. But I could tell now that all Abel wanted was to be held, so I gave Katie her stuffed crocodile that Uncle Chibbs had gotten her and pulled Abel close to me. Katie busied herself with the crocodile, speaking baby talk to it and listening patiently for its answers.

"Hey sugar bug, how's it going?" I asked quietly.

"Where's daddy?" He asked sadly.

"He's out looking for your Aunt Jenny, sweetie. He'll be home soon." I promised. There was a knock at the door.

"Ma'am, Gemma's here to look after them." One of the SAMDEN boys said, poking his head through the door. Gemma gave him a disgusted look, pushing past him and scooping up Katie.

"How're you feeling, Cass?" She asked, ruffling Abel's hair.

"I need my meds." I said simply. "Thanks for staying with them. Is there any word about what's going on?" I continued, my tone softer.

"Abel, kiss your momma good night," Gemma instructed, slipping a little by calling me Abel's mom. "I haven't heard, sweetie. I'm sure Jax'll fill you in as soon as he comes home."

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks again Gemma." I smiled. Abel and Katie both kissed my cheeks and told me to feel better. Once the door closed, I popped half an OxyCodone and checked my phone. No messages. It was only 8:30. I got up, got dressed as best I could, without my cut, and opened the door.

"Ma'am, I'm not sure you're allowed to go out yet..."

"What's your name, Denver?"

"Adam, ma'am."

"Call me ma'am again and I'll remove your penis. I'm not kidding. It'll get chopped off. And you wouldn't be my first castration. I might let you overdose on my pain pills first, but I doubt it. You're really not about to tell me what I can and cannot do, are you?"

"Cassia..."

"Adam, I'm going to Frozen Heaven, you can either come with me like it's your job to do or you can let me go myself. Your choice. Gemma, do you and the kids want anything?" I called to my de facto Mother in Law and my children.

"Take my truck, I'll text Adam our order." She responded, popping Cars into the DVD player.

"Awesome. Get the keys, meet me outside. And find me a g-u-n". I spelled the last word to make sure Abel didn't understand it.

"How're you gonna shoot it?" Adam cried quietly.

"I'm left handed. And the second best damn shot in SAMCRO. Don't test me, Denver." Adam looked from me to Gemma, who was looking at the both of us closely.

"Jax said to keep her safe. Keep her safe." Gemma shrugged. "She's allowed out. You can't stop her. She's the Sergeant."

"Thank you Gemma," I replied, utterly surprised.

"Okay, okay. But only for a minute."

"And the piece?" I prompted.

"Here." He begrudgingly handed over one of his guns. "Do you have a holster?" I lifted up my shirt and showed him the leather strap that wrapped around my slim waist. He looked a little too long at my stretch marks.

"I had a kid, ass wipe. Put the gun in the holster. If I need it, it'll be easy for me to grab."

"Yes ma'am." He said, stuffing the gun as best he could into the straps.

"I wasn't kidding about the castration."

I stared out the sunroof at the stars passing by. Adam wasn't much of a talker. My leg was propped up on the dash, so my seat was laid back all the way. I felt my phone ring in my bra, so I dug my hand in to get it.

"Hello?" I asked, not looking at the caller ID.

"Cassia Belle. It's been too long." My father's voice came through the speakers.

"Dad." I said, my voice steel. Adam looked alarmed, pulled over, and whipped out his phone. His fingers flew fast over the keyboard.

"Jennifer Grace says hello."

"You have Jenny? Do you have Drew?" I asked frantically, frustrated at my inability to move.

"Mr. King was a liability. He had to die." Dad replied. "That scruffy blonde man will be next, Cassia Belle. You remember what I said about having a boyfriend when you were 15, right?"

"I remember."

"Say it."

"Any boyfriend I have can never be better than you." I said, tears daring to form in my eyes. I couldn't let Adam see me cry.

"Good girl. He doesn't make love to you better than me, does he?" He whispered. I gulped. The short, truthful answer was of course, 'yes, yes he does', but the answer that would get me to Jennifer was:

"Of course he doesn't. He's nothing compared to you." My heart fell to my stomach. Adam was still furiously typing away, nearly shattering the screen with his aggressive finger pokes.

"I never thought you'd become a biker whore. Or that you'd turn your sister into one. I mean, come on Cassia Belle, you were so beautiful without all of those gaudy tattoos."

"Daddy, where are you? I want…I want to see you." I choked out.

"I'll see you soon, baby. I'm where I should be."

"Can I talk to Jennifer?" I cried before he could hang up. I could hear his breathing on the other line. I prayed that he would get her on the phone.

"Certainly. Your sister has been dying to speak with you." His use of the word 'dying' wasn't lost on me. It was another reminder that he could kill her in any second. There was some shuffling before Jenny's voice came through on the line.

"Where are you?" I whispered harshly, hoping he couldn't hear me through the line.

"It's really cold, and I feel like I'm high again. But I'm okay, Cass. You'd love it though, it's filled with your favorite things, ya know? And sometimes Dad brings me brownie bits. He'd be happy to give you some if you just came here, and were with us where you belong."

"Oh my god that fucking mastermind."

"I love you too, Cass. I'll see you soon." Came Jenny's stiff voice and a click on the line. Adam was still typing.

"Take us to the Clubhouse immediately." I ordered, poking him. "We need to lockdown." I called Gemma. "Gem. Get to the Clubhouse, pack stuff for the kids, take everything in the fridge you can carry. I'm meeting you there. DO NOT STOP, do NOT pass go, do NOT collect $200. Someone will meet up with you for protection. Damn it, Gemma, don't make me treat you like an Old Lady. Thank you." I turned back to Adam. "Why the FUCK aren't you driving, Denver?"

"I'm arranging your children's protection, Texas. Jax is meeting us at the Clubhouse."

"You're more useful than I originally thought."

"Thanks…" he smiled and put the car in gear.


	15. Chapter 15

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar, I own the unfamiliar.**_

 **3 Years Ago**

"That was really, really, stupid." Jax said for the eighteenth time as he paced my studio apartment. I sighed. I was lying on my bed with both arms firmly covering my eyes. Listening to Jax bitch and whine about having told Clay that I was his old lady was not my idea of productive.

"You're not stupid."

"No, no I'm stupid. You're in so much danger now."

"I have never seen you like this." I commented casually from my place on the bed.

"I love you."

"Okay, well you loved me yesterday and you weren't whining about how 'stupid' you are. So…." I replied, sitting up and looking at him. "Who has Abel?"

"Gemma, of course. The kid gets taken care of."

"Okay. Well, why don't we just spend today being normal, or telling the guys ourselves? There has to be a way to counteract this in our favor before Clay calls everyone and twists it into whatever he can to keep the President patch. I mean, everyone understands true love, right?"

"You can be such a girl sometimes, Cassia"

"I can't hide it all the time." I shrugged. For the first time in a couple hours Jax smiled. He sat next to me on the bed and tried to pull me towards him, but I flinched involuntarily. He paused immediately.

"What's...what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I guess the whole Clay thing..." I trailed off.

"Cass, are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently, not trying to touch me again but clearly still wanting comfort me somehow. But I couldn't talk about Clay without talking about my father. They were intertwined and I vowed to never talk about my dad again. Especially not with the Club. I couldn't be weak in front of them. And that was my only weakness.

"I'm fine, baby. Just a little rattled. It's not every day I get nearly raped. But, it's the life, right?" I tried being flippant.

"This is how we get Clay out." Jax said suddenly. I rolled my eyes.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Come on, you've gotta tell Chibbs and Bobby what happened with Clay just now. It's the only way we take away his patch You're the real final domino. This, plus the evidence we have from Denver's new President, Adam, that Clay tried to kill us is enough to get rid of him."

 **Present Day**

I was sitting at the table, even without a vote I had gained enough respect to keep my seat. My pain killers, or what little of them I had taken, had worn off nearly an hour ago. But I grinned through it, focusing on other things just like I did every time I had been shot in service of the club. Gemma had even brought my cut and helped stuff my broken arm through it. I looked down at my patches now, the ones I was never supposed to earn. The ones that no one like me had ever worn and probably never would, if we didn't find Jenny. My life was a series of breaking barriers. Destroying expectations and eliminating stereotypes. In the last five years I had taught a group of hardened, loyalist white men to open their Club-their hearts-to an outsider. I'd taught them that breaking the rules often gets you the best results. In the last 15 years, I had taught the pageant world that tall, busty, black women can beat the skinny white bitches' asses in Texas. I represented the state of Texas in the Miss America pageant and damn near won. It was from these instances of "never should've happened" that I drew hope from now. My father was bigger, badder than everything else. But if anyone could break him down, it was SAMCRO.

"He's at Frozen Heaven, in the office space above it to be specific."

"How do you know?" Tig asked, leaning forward onto the table.

"I was able to talk to Jenny. She dropped some hints."

"They were good hints." Adam confirmed. Jax nodded his head in agreement.

"I say we roll up on him immediately, kill him on the spot." Jax suggested. Everyone else roared in agreement. "Cassia, you're at the table because of your position and because you've spilled blood for this club. Your vote is the only one that matters on this." He looked me dead in the eye. There was true strength in his blue eyes now, and true vulnerability. He was genuinely waiting for my okay to kill my father and I was more than ready to give it to him.

"Kill him. I'll be asleep in the apartment with our kids. Except you have to use my 357. I want him to die at his own barrel." I consented, reaching into the holster of my cut and drawing the gun. I slapped it onto the wooden table and slid it at my boyfriend. Most of the table was stunned, but Jax wasn't. He was expecting this. "Then dump it. I'll need a new one though."

"You've done some of your best shooting with this gun, Cass. And some of the most important for the club. We can't just dump it, but I'll make sure you never see it again." Jax replied in his President's voice. I nodded in agreement before I got up.

"I just want to let y'all know that if I could walk properly, I'd be with you tonight. I've got a 9mm tucked in my holster here, so your loved ones will be protected from the inside." I paused, this wasn't what I really wanted to say. "Jenny led our dad here so that you guys would kill him. She wasn't betraying the Club, she was trying to get closure in the only way she thought would work. And she's probably right. He'd always come after us as long as he's alive. So, she's not a rat or a traitor. She's just scared." I sighed again, running my good hand through my newly all black hair. "I'm probably not gonna be good at this Old Lady thing, so all of you better pray to whatever you believe in that I get better soon." The Club laughed, our tense moment gone. I kissed Jax softly, resting my cast on his shoulder. "You be safe, baby. I can't live without you." I whispered, before leaving the room and starting my new life as Gemma's protégé.


	16. Chapter 16

_**AN: Kurt Sutter owns the familiar, I own the unfamiliar.**_

 **3 Years Ago**

I'd gotten good at looking and acting sad without crying. Maybe sad wasn't exactly what I had been going for. I'd gotten good at looking and acting shocked, horrified, and shake without crying. The first couple of times, I just got choked up and buried my head in Jax's cut. Then, once my acting skills had been more refined and I had been used to telling the story over and over, I didn't even have to do that. Just a little twitch of my shoulders or my shaking fingers were enough. The guys bought anything that was uncharacteristic. It wasn't like I wasn't affected by almost getting sexually assaulted by Clay. It was only that I had been used to hiding my father's abuse for so long that acting unaffected was generally the best and only course of action I was used to. But now, Jax was having me tell my story as pathetically as possible to every member of the club. Reactions varied from immediate outrage to disbelief to overwhelming compassion. I wasn't a club member in those moments, I was Jax's old lady and accepted in that role. It was my worst nightmare. After I relived this nightmare over and over, Jax hit them with the real news. My story was told to make them see the potential of evil in Clay Morrow. Jax's job was to hammer it home.

"He's gotta go, man." Jax said to Tig, the last person who needed convincing. Tig just shook his head.

"How do I know you're not lying?!" He cried, pointing at me. I sighed, I knew this wasn't going to go well.

"Because I don't lie. And because it's exactly something he would do. You just don't want to believe it." I screamed back, breaking the shy, shaken little girl facade I had adopted. Tig looked taken aback, but he had stopped seething.

"I'm sorry." He said in response, looking at his feet. Someone knocked on the door to my apartment, giving me the perfect excuse to get away from the craziness. Jax would be using this moment to convince Tig to vote Clay out and I didn't want to see him dismantle a two decade long friendship, so I took my sweet time.

"Hey Chibbs." I said when I opened the door.

"Hey there sweetheart." He responded, pulling me in for a hug. He handed me a cigarette, which I took gratefully, and he lit it up for me. "Want to take a walk?" He asked. I nodded.

"I'm with Chibbs," I called back to Jax.

"Be safe." He yelled back briefly. I rolled my eyes, but he couldn't see it. I hated how he automatically treated me differently, like I was some fragile bird that needed to get its wing fixed. I wasn't fragile. I was still the girl with the bullet hole in her shoulder that would have willingly fell to the ground to make sure he didn't even get a scratch. I was still the girl that killed his would be assassin and nursed him back to health. Chibbs knew that I was still an asset. When we had told him that I'd been assaulted by Clay, he'd simply said "That bastard. You're gonna kill him, right Miss Texas?" He didn't even need to hear about how Clay tried to have us killed. At this point, I smiled and hugged him. Jax was jealous of how willingly I could touch Chibbs and how differently I reacted to him. I shook violently whenever he came near me.

Chibbs and I smoked in silence on the front balcony of my studio. We looked out on the rain, on the four motorcycles parked in the one parking spot I had been allowed when I moved in, and on the weary passerby that looked up at us with open disdain and fear.

"People fear what they do not understand." He said now, blowing out a long stream of smoke.

"With great power comes great responsibility." I answered, blowing out a significantly less magnificent stream of smoke. He looked at me curiously. "Oh, I thought we were just naming popular and inspiring quotes. My apologies. Keep going".

"Clay doesn't understand you. He doesn't understand why the Club would vote you in, he doesn't understand why you'd ever want a patch and he definitely doesn't understand how you ever got one. But he was too smart to vote against giving you that cut," he clarified, gesturing to my leather with the lit cigarette. "He attacked you because he wants you gone and he wants to keep power. He didn't factor Jax into the situation. He didn't know you'd be this smart." Chibbs finished, crushing his cigarette with the heel of his boot. I was a social smoker at heart, so I followed suit, crushing the remaining embers.

"Well, that's a shame. Because I never wanted to take his job. All I wanted was family."

"And that, you've got now." He draped an arm around my shoulder the way older brothers did to little sisters when they had to take family photos. But instead of being awkward and mischievous, I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him back. He was my best friend, after all. And the only member of the club who didn't see me any differently. Chibbs, bless him, was my much needed constant. Jax was my much needed chaos.

 **Present Day**

The sound of the door closing woke me up. The footsteps were hushed but sure. My daughter was in the crib on my right. My stepson was curled into me, under the covers also on my right. There was no way to shift without betraying the fact that I had awoken, so I slowly gripped the gun in my holster under me and freed it from the leather straps. Where was my protection? The footsteps drew closer, so close I could feel their breath on my cheek. They were still coming closer to me, until they felt the cold, hard metal against their temple.

"One more movement and I will kill you." I whispered, not wanting to wake my kids up.

"Jesus Christ Cassia! It's Jax!" He cried, the voice familiar. I shone the light from my cell phone onto his face and immediately put the gun down.

"Why didn't you say anything?!" I whisper cried, pushing him weakly with my good hand.

"I didn't think you'd pull a gun on me!" He whisper cried back, laughing as he backed up.

"Where's Jenny? How'd everything go?"

"There was a change of plans. Jenny's with Adam from Denver, apparently she likes him. Your father is tied up downstairs watching Tig have sex with a Crow Eater."

"I'm sorry, he's what?"

"Tig is assigned watch, but Tig needed to blow off some steam." His voice came from far away, and then closer again. "I thought you'd want the pleasure of killing your father yourself."

"Seriously?!"

"Seriously, baby. Who loves you the most?" He asked, kissing me.

"You do!" I whispered back, kissing him again. "We'll deal with it in the morning, come lay with me and your children."

"Anything for you baby." He smiled in the dark, his white teeth glowing. He took off his cut and his shirt, and curled in around Abel. He rested one hand on the crib and one hand on my thigh before falling fast asleep.

Dad looked worse for wear. Jax, and maybe Happy, had already gotten to him during whatever rescue sting operation the guys had concocted the night before. His nose was clearly broken, and I wouldn't be surprised if his ribs were shattered. I wondered how many of his own pain killers Jax had to down before being able to ignore the pain he felt as he beat my father's ass.

"Cassia." He said weakly upon seeing me. Jax was holding me up.

"Dad. I like seeing you tied up." I said, repeating what he had said to me one night when I was tied to my bed by his ties. That was his foray into kink.

"What will your mother think?" He asked, ignoring the comment.

"That she needs another bottle of wine and a few more Xanex's." I shot back as Jenny entered the room. She propped herself on the pool table, watching us both intently.

"You shouldn't have called, Daddy." She said smugly, swinging her feet off the side of pool table. I vaguely wondered how many times it had been used to have sex on.

"My girls. The Miss Texas queens." Dad said wistfully, looking us both in the eye in turn. I sighed and leaned into my boyfriend. Jax kissed the top of my head, and wrapped his arm around me to stabilize me. I needed my oxycodone to stand, but I wanted to be sober when I killed him. "I remember when you first learned how to shoot. Do you remember it, Cassia Belle?"

"I was like ten, you took me skeet shooting. I hit every clay pigeon on the first try. That's what you are, dad, a clay pigeon."

"You've always been a natural shot. Jenny, here, was a slower learner. Always was. The only thing she could do better than you was be confident. But confidence in women is overrated, don't you think? I told your mother that when she wanted to have another baby." Dad was talking more to himself now, the rest of us waiting in rapt attention. "You were the perfect girl." He had gone far away in his head, he wasn't with us anymore, no matter how real the rest of us in the room were. "I remember the first time I saw you in the swimsuit competition…so unsure of your immaculate beauty…" he slumped to the floor, the blood from the bullet hole in his head pooling onto the Clubhouse floor. I didn't even know that the gun was in my hand until Jax took it from me. I didn't register Jenny's screaming until she was hugging me, her screams filling my ear drums. It was an out of body experience, if I'd ever had one. The feeling was compounded when the Clubhouse doors burst open, and I was suddenly staring into the barrel of an automatic weapon that was then pressed into my skull.

"GET DOWN ON THE GROUND," the cop screamed at me, pushing my right arm. I cried out in pain as I crashed to the floor next to my father with my sister on my other side. My eyes were immediately blinded with tears but I could still see Jax punch out the officer who had pushed me. My eyes were clear enough to see the love of my life shot in the leg and passed out on the floor, too far away for me to reach.

"Shit." Tig whispered.

"You got that right," Chibbs replied. Then, all went black.

 _Two Mornings Later_

"What are you charging me with?" I drawled at the sheriff who had come to visit me in my cell. They had separated me from Jax, but not from Chibbs. It showed that they were only half caught up on the ins and outs of SAMCRO.

"Murder in the first degree. Possession of illegal firearms. Participation in a illegal gang. Gun running. Prostitution." He read off the list in his hand.

"All in one night? And here, I thought I was asleep with my kids. Also, I haven't done much running anywhere recently. If you haven't noticed, I'm wearing a goddamn cast on my leg." I continued, smiling at him. Chibbs snorted from my right. I looked over to him, getting the strength I needed. I looked to my left and saw Bobby, silver haired and tired, giving the cinder blocked wall the nastiest look he could muster.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Cassia." The Sheriff said to me, glaring at me with his best Bobby impression.

"That makes two of us, Sheriff. I don't have anything to say to you without my lawyer present.

"You think you're invincible, don't you? You're some big bad Old Lady. The Queen of bikers. The Queen of Charming. All because you fuck Jax Teller? Let me tell you something, sweetheart, SAMCRO will dump you on your ass the moment things go south and you lose your value to the Club. They don't protect women. They just protect their own."

"You don't know anything, sweetheart." I spat out the last word. "I'm the fucking Sergeant at Arms. I'm not just some Old Lady. I am SAMCRO. Now get the hell out of my cell until you've found our lawyer." I spat back, slumping my head against the wall and ignoring the Sheriff as he walked away.

"Well done, Cassia. For everything." Bobby said when we heard the door closed. "You're still a real broad."

"And true SAMCRO." Chibbs added, nodding in my direction.

"You better find me some protection in Stockton, because that's where I'm gonna end up. And protect my family. You're all I have left." I answered, accepting my fate.

"Aye, Miss Texas." Chibbs responded.

It was worth it.


	17. Thanks Everyone and New Beginnings

Hey y'all! To all of those who followed Cassia's story, I want to thank you so much! Publishing this FanFic was hard for me, since it's my first one ever published and I never knew if anyone else was interested in Cassia's journey. I am so appreciative of, and thankful for all of you who stuck by me, reviewed, and read this story.

If you're looking for more of my writing, check out my next Fic, In the Middle of Two Kingdoms, a Sons of Anarchy/Animal Kingdom crossover. If you liked Cassia, I think you're gonna love Riley!

XOXO

Coraelliem92


End file.
